


Disney What-ifs

by Fuzzi_Fox



Category: Disney - All Media Types
Genre: Drug Abuse, Drug Use, F/F, Fluff, Shameless Smut, Underage (no younger than 16)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-06-14 22:10:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 76,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15398601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzzi_Fox/pseuds/Fuzzi_Fox
Summary: Ever wonder if Shang caught Mulan bathing? If Nala never found Simba? If Belle never fell in love with the Beast? What if Aurora never touched the spindle of a spinning wheel? If Ariel had kissed Eric before the 3 days were up?Readers give me a what-if prompt, I write a one-shot. (Originally posted to ff.net I will be slowly moving over here too and accepting new prompts)  Rated E for wiggle room, but chapter titles will contain the rating for each individual chapterTags with movies/characters will be added as I add the one-shots.





	1. Mulan, rating: E

**Author's Note:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on 
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney. 
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

**Question 1 by Demi Brackensick (on ff.net): "What if Shang discovers Mulan's secret when she's bathing in the pond?"**

* * *

Mulan sank into the water, running her hand through her oily hair. She thought she could literally feel the layer of sweat and dirt melt away from her body, the cool water soothing the blisters on her hands and feet.  _I'll have to wrap those later_. She pondered how long it would take for them to heal, and for thick callouses to form like those on the hands of her father.

"How will I ever make men out of these green boys," A thick gruff voice echoed through the trees, and Mulan turned in sudden fear as she looked up the dirt path she had followed down to the pond. She shrank back into the water, her eyes scanning her surroundings quickly as she sought a place to hide.

Shang pondered how poorly this week of training had gone. How could he ever live up to his father's expectations when he was given a swarm of farmers and stable boys to train into hardened soldiers?

"Soldier! What are you doing?! You should be sleeping back at camp with the others!"

"Uh…" She stammered, faltering for words only managing to stutter "Sir," Her eyes were locked upon his body, never having seen a nude man before. She tried to recall propriety and shift her gaze but she was caught. The armor hid how muscular he was, and her eyes drifted to thick patch of hair that marked his sex.

"Get back to camp! You're still waking at dawn with the others don't think I'll take it easy on you because you decided to wander off for a midnight swim!" he shouted, approaching her quickly.  _Oh no… he's coming close what if he notices?_  She had to find a way out of the water, and soon, but in a way that let her leave his pond still a boy in his eyes. She shuddered at the thought of what would happen should he figure out who she was.

"Yes… uhh… right away," Mulan began to shift towards the shore line, Khan already waiting for her. He was approaching her, and panic began to set in. Her face flushed as blood rushed to her cheeks the sound throbbing in her ears as the edges of her vision began to cloud. Suddenly he shouted, arcing his back.  
"Ah! Damnit… something bit me," His eyes searched the water and Mulan wanted to take advantage of this distracted to dash to Khan but Shang had already reached in to the water and grabbed Mushu, "Damn snakes," And threw her guardian clear to the center of the pond and resumed his approach. His arm reached for her, and she tried to shy away but his hand clamped down upon her wrist with surprising force,

"No please…" She whimpered, losing the artificial gruff tone she had been mocking. But he jerked her into a standing position, and she saw his eyes go wide as his gaze fell upon her feminine form, her small breasts meagerly hidden by an arm shyly wrapped around her chest.

"What is this…" He dropped her, and she quickly sank back into the water, trying to hide her shame.  _No… no no no no no… the penaltry for this is death. I can't die like this, I can't shame my father. No… not like this please._

"P-please, I was-"

"Do you understand what you've done!" Shang bellowed, his voice quivering. He looked down at this young woman, realizing for the first time it was the small misfit Fa Ping.  _No… not Fa Ping._ "Mulan…" He knew the famous soldier, he had fought alongside his father once. His father had told him many stories of Fa Zhu's bravery in battle. He had always thought it a shame Fa Zhu never had a son, until this mysterious Ping arrived at his camp.  _But he never did have a son…_

The small misfit Ping had caught his eye from the first day, never having seemed to fit in very well, but he refused to give up. He had seen Ping on many nights out in the field practicing after the others had gone to bed, determined to get better. He was the worst of his recruits, but he had never seen a green boy work as hard as this one. He had admired it, although he never would admit it. He reminded him of himself, trying to become the soldier his father wanted him to be. It was why he was always harder on Ping than the others, he so desperately wanted this young boy to blossom into a man, the soldier that he so desperately wanted to be.

He had realized quickly that it was more than admiration he felt for the soldier. But affection for your soldiers was taboo. He was their leader, it would be inappropriate to desire a lover.  _Maybe this is why I wanted so much for Fa Ping… Mulan… to grow into the strongest of my men. So I could promote him, and it would no longer be taboo._ But Fa Mulan was a woman; it was more than taboo for her to be his soldier.  _But I am the only one who knows._ "Mulan… Fa Mulan…"

"No. Here I am Ping. I am here to protect my father," Mulan found a spark of courage.  _Face death with courage Mulan. If nothing else, they can say you died bravely._ Shang looked at this young woman, seeing the desperate determined soldier Ping that he admired so deeply. He realized he didn't care that she was a woman, or that he had thought she was a man. This was still one of the citizens who arrived at camp ready to train, to fight, to die for China. What did it matter what lie between the legs?

"You are the dumbest, craziest, most determined son of a bitch on my camp," Shang stated, reaching for Mulan again pulling her to her feet. She looked up to meet his gaze, feeling a stir deep on her belly masking any sense of modesty or propriety. Impulse captured the pair, thoughts of modesty, propriety, law, war, slipped from their minds as their lips collided.

A shiver coursed through Mulan's body at the feel of a man's hands against her bare shoulders, her arms slipping over his shoulders. Any thoughts of doubt failed to surface in either of their minds, impulse and primitive urges driving them on as hands slipped from shoulders and the innocence of their kiss quickly turned passionate. Shang's hands slid down her chest, cupping Mulan's breasts in his hands. She could feel the pressure of his arousal against her abdomen, and it ignited desires of her own. Her hands slid down his front, her fingertips tickling his lean body, running over the course thick of hair before her fingers wrapped around him, and she heard him groan against her lips.

Mulan felt a hand slip away from her chest, and before she could give a disappointed whine the hand slid down her belly, and hesitantly sliding between her thighs. She thought she would collapse against him, her knees having lost the strength to hold her up. Her cheeks flushed hot, spreading to her ears. The same burning was spreading across Shang's face as her arousal was immediately evident against his fingers as they slid forward with ease.

They broke the kiss, Mulan resting her forehead against Shang's chest to keep him from seeing how red her face was. While Shang moved his fingers in a way that made Mulan feel she would catch fire from the swarm of sensation. She bashfully stroked him, a prideful smile tugging at her lips. She bit her lower lip, reminding herself not to stop to return this sensual bliss as she felt as if her body would collapse. She bit down on her lip, pushing her forehead harder against his chest as she was pushed into an orgasm so powerful she felt as if the world itself would crack apart.  _This? This is what's considered vile and filthy and improper?_ She almost had to remind herself to stop, to return this physical bliss. But it only took a few more moments before she felt him give in.

Before the two had a moment to enjoy the afterglow of their unexpected liaison, the sound of three male voices in the distance met their ears. Mulan gasped, falling back into the water sinking until she was up to her neck.

"Oh no!" She gasped,

" _Ping,_ " Shang said, heavily stressing the name, "I think it's time you get back to camp. And one day, I  _will_  make a man out of you," Mulan smiled, a flush once again taking over her features,

"Maybe one day you can make a  _woman_  out of me too,"


	2. Hercules, Rating: T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Question 2: Posted by Demi Brackensick "In Hercules, when Hercules and Meg are in the garden, what if Phil and Pegasus never interrupted them? How far would they have gone?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on 
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney. 
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

**Question 2: Posted by Demi Brackensick "In Hercules, when Hercules and Meg are in the garden, what if Phil and Pegasus never interrupted them? How far would they have gone?"**

  
Meg sat down on the edge of the fountain, looking at her hands for a moment before closing her eyes to try and fight back the tears that were threatening to come. She meant what she said, sometimes it is better to be alone. But why did she want to be with him? Why was she enjoying this game of hookie so much? Why had these last several months been the happiest she had known in ages, the months she had been spending helping Hades trying to get him killed had instead been spent getting to know him, getting close to him and spending time with him. Her thoughts were broken when she felt a hand lift her own,

"Meg? I would never, ever… hurt you." Hercules took her hands in his, looking into her violet eyes, those eyes he had fallen in love with, but eyes that always looked so sad. He wanted to make her happy, take away whatever hurt made her look so sad. These passing months were the happiest of his life. There was no more teasing, no more shame, no more accidents because of his strength. But best of all, he got to know this woman sitting here beside him. Meg made brief eye contact, looking up at him as if she were surprised he would make such a promise.

"And I don't want to hurt you so," She scoffed, breaking off her eye contact, "let's both do ourselves and… stop this," she saw him leaning towards her, and instead of backing of, she started leaning into him, his face close enough for her to smell the mint on his breath from the tea they drank after their meal at the bay "umm… before… we," her heart immediately began pounding in her chest when she felt his lips touch hers, those calloused hands lifting against the soft skin of her arms. His touch was gentle, far softer than the power of his muscles might suggest. _What is wrong with me, stop this. You'll only hurt him worse._ She fought with herself, but Gods damn this kiss felt good. Despite that very loud nagging voice in the back of her head screaming for her to stop, to run, that this will only lead to hurt, she leaned into him, and found a hand on his chest, the other slowly winding around his back.

Hercules felt Meg's arm winding around him, and returned the gesture, his fingers running down the center of her slender back. He felt her deepen the kiss, and his nervousness was creeping back. His first instinct was to pull away, but every other part of him was yearning for more. After a few moments he did pull away, placing a hand gently on her shoulder, not wanting to take advantage of her.

"Shh," She cooed, seeming to sense his nervousness. She was losing her own inner battle, it had been years since she had been touched by a man, and she was beyond the point of return. Her purpose for being there utterly forgotten, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders carefully, not wanting to frighten him again. She forgot how innocent he was, but it still surprised her that he wasn't taking advantage of the situation. Any man she had ever met would have been clawing at her chiton by now. Not that she would say no to Wonderboy here. The couple pulled back, and she looked into those innocent blue eyes again before she was distracted by the fluttering birds behind him. _Hades! Hades won't win, he can't Hercules doesn't have any weaknesses. Even if he did, I'll never help Hades. He can do whatever he wants to me._

Hercules felt her tense up, and broke their kiss. "Meg? A-are you alright?" Meg just smiled, placing a hand in his cheek.

"I'm fine Herc,"

"Meg… these past few months… have been the happiest that I can think of. You've always been there for me," _'I was sent there for you'_ Meg's cynical mind reminded her. She didn't deserve this, she didn't deserve him. There was a special place reserved in the Underworld for atrocious people like her. He took her hand, the other lifting her chin.

"They've been happy for me to," At least everything I tell him isn't a lie

"Meg… I. I love you." What was left of her heart cracked upon hearing those words, her eyes flashing with tears faster than she could fight them back. She didn't want to let him see her cry and quickly pressed her lips against his, I love you, Hercules she thought, the power of her own emotions catching her by surprise. She wanted to tell him, but the words wouldn't make their way out.

Hercules was also caught off guard at the realization of the depth of his emotions for her. He had admired her from the moment he met her. From when he first laid eyes on those curves, he thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. And as the months passed he learned how much there was to her. And he loved everything about her. Except that sadness, he wished he could take that sadness away.

"Herc, I have to warn you… Hades… He's trying to find your weakness." The sentence blurted out before she could stop herself.

"W-what?" Meg took a deep breath, biting her lip trying to build up the courage to save Hercules, at the cost of having him forsake her,

"Hades sent me to find your weakness Hercules… but… I can't."

"I-I don't understand."

"Herc, Hades. He kind of owns me… and well, he sent me to find your weaknesses. But… I can't do that. I won't help him."

"He owns you?!"

"That's not the important part here-"

"Meg I have to fix that! W-why didn't you tell me sooner, I could have helped!"

"No, listen, Hades is going to-"

"Come on! I'll take care of this!"

"Hercules! Listen to me!" He placed her hands on his face, forcing him to look at her, both of them on their feet. "Hades has this whole big plan, to take over Olympus. For some reason he thinks that he can't do it if you're able to fight and he wanted me to help him remove you from the equation. You have to stop Hades from taking over Olympus!"

"But Meg… I can't just ignore a damsel in distress. I have to save you too," This wasn't the reaction she was expecting. She was expecting him to be hurt, angry, belligerent. Not a hero trying to come to her rescue. "I love you, I can't let him do this to you,"

"You're the one in danger here. Hades is obsessed with hurting you, he will stop at nothing. And he said he has something really big planned, you need to think about that first!"

"What about you…" Hercules faltered, looking down into those sad violet eyes. "Meg, I love you. I don't care what Hades has planned, if he owns you…" He paused, fully realizing what she had said for the first time. Owned by Hades? How did he manage that, and how long had she been trapped in her situation. "I can't stop until I save you, Hero rule-"

"Herc! No more jokes, no more 'hero rules', this is serious. This is bigger than me. This is about Olympus, this is about you"

"If Hades owns you… why are you telling me all this if you don't want me to rescue you?"

"Because I love you! Because I don't want to do Hades bidding! He can do what he wants to me but I can't let him kill you and take over the Cosmos! You're a hero Wonderboy. And as a hero you have to do what's better for Greece."

Herc looked down at her, determined that everyone would be okay. Hades wouldn't win.

"I'll stop Hades, and I won't let him take over Olympus. But I'm also saving you. I promise," And kissed her once more. As Meg had learned, Hercules always kept his promises.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think even if they did kiss it would have gone any further. Hercules is too shy and honest to do much more on a first date, regardless of how long he knew the girl. As for why Hercules wasn't angry: she told him herself. She also started it by saying she was owned by Hades thus implying a lack of choice. When in the movie Hades simply says Meg was working WITH him, like a mutual thing. And I realize I accidently created a possible alternate universe, but I'm not starting another fanfic =P I hope you enjoyed, and Demi I don't know if this is the direction you expected but I still hope you liked the answer!


	3. Lion King 2, Rating: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Question 3: Posted by Nightmaster000 "What if Kiara met either Nuka or Vitani instead of Kovu?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

**Question 3: Posted by Nightmaster000 "What if Kiara met either Nuka or Vitani instead of Kovu?"**

 

Kiara ran through the brush, noting the gradual change from the lush Pridelands to the desolation of the Outlands. Her father's voice was echoing in her head, reminding her to stay away from the Outlands. But he hadn't trusted her to go out to play, why should she trust him and his marked path? She darted forward, pushed by curiosity. She looked up ,seeing a the rotting log from a dead tree.  _I bet I can see all across the Outlands from up there!_  She leapt onto the log, enjoying her new vantage point. She looked around her, slowly walking forward not realizing that the end of the log was a step away, until she went tumbling into the dusty dirt below.

"Hey!" She looked up suddenly, and saw a tawny lion cub sitting on her haunches, ready to pounce. "Who are you! Wait… you're a Pridelander! Not happy with the Pridelands? Have to scout out the Outlands?" The tawny cub began to circle Kiara, staring her down. The bright yellow of her eyes was brightened in contrast to the dark circles of brown fur that surrounded them. "Not that I blame you. This is where the  _brave_  lions live"

"I'm brave!"

"Sure you are, you little princess. Everything handed to you, even the gazelle jump in front of you for dinner! Out here, only the brave survive." She continued to circle Kiara, a thick growl forming in her throat.

"Who are you?" Kiara demanded, hiding the tremor in her voice, pouncing to keep the cub in front of her,  _never turn your back on an Outlander!_

"Vitani! Feared throughout the Outlands…" The cub's tirade was interrupted,

"Oh hey  _Tani_  who's your little friend here?" An older lion, with dark fur and a tufts of thick black hair growing in scattered spots across his head and neck, and walked with an awkward jerking motion. He looked as if he had somehow survived a strike with lightning. The lion spoke with a mumble, a dried stick in his mouth as he flopped next the cub called Vitani.  _Why is he chewing a stick? Who are these lions? Maybe I should have just stayed on that trail_  Kiara started to doubt herself, but didn't want to show her fear to these Outlanders. She was a Pridelander; she was supposed to be brave and true. Protect everything the light touches.

"I'm Kiara!" She shouted, trying to roar and managing little more than a deep mew.

"Awe, I think the little princess tried to roar!" Vitani laughed, and looked at her brother who had seemingly already lost interest in this intruding whelp. "Nuka! Are we just going to stand here while a  _Pridelander_  crosses into our land! Let's show her what happens to Pridelander princesses who wander too far off," This seemed to jar him from his stick, and he stood, circling around behind Kiara, trapping her between the two strangers.

"I am not a princess!" She declared indignantly. Everyone called her princess, and treated her as if she were as delicate as a butterfly. But she was a lioness, the future Queen of the Pridelands. This was her chance to prove herself. If she could hold her ground against these two, perhaps her father would finally let her play without needing Timone and Pumba. Her thoughts of bravery were stopped when she felt hot breath on the fur on her scruff, and the foul breath filed her nose. She sank to the ground, looking up at the lion who was sitting behind her.

"I think the princess is scared!"

"We should take her to mother!" Vitani shouted suddenly, standing on her toes,

"Yes. You should take her home to mommy," Zira emerged from the clearing, having seen the moving grass in the distance. At first she thought it was food, and came closer to investigate. But instead, she found a much better prize. The precious daughter of Scar's greatest foe. Why, with Kiara in her grasp, she would have any leverage against Simba she could have ever hoped for. With this little hostage, she could get Simba to give the Pridelands over to her, he would to anything to save his daughter. She would finally win back Scar's birthright.

Vitani stepped back as Zira approached, her hollow eyes boring down into the helpless cub sitting before her. She saw Kiara try to scoot back, but bumped into Nuka who stepped his paw into her back, pinning her helplessly into place.

"I should thank you little won. You, just handed me the Pridelands." She laughed heartedly, throwing her head back, and Kiara could see how thin she really was. Her collarbone was a thick wire wrapping around her chest, the shadow of her ribs jolting with each laugh that came from the manic Lioness. She looked at Vitani again, hoping the other cub would change her mind and help her. But the tawny cub had taken to chewing on a stick.  _Why always with the sticks?_ She realized then how thin the cub was too. She wondered if the cub was trying to eat the stick. Her thoughts of sympathy were quickly changed to fear as she felt unfamiliar teeth clamp into her scruff, lifting her off the grown.

"No! No! Put me down! No! Someone! Timone! Pumba! Dad!" She screamed, swinging her paws out hoping to strike Zira but she couldn't reach. She was too small.  _I'm sorry daddy! I should have stayed on the path! I swear, if you come help me I'll never run off again! I promise! Help me!I_ She began purring, drying to sooth the dreadful anxiety that was sending shivers through her entire body. The laughter of the tawny cub and the scruffy lion were only making it worse.  _Please daddy… hurry. They're taking me away!_  She let out a grunt, swinging her legs and reached behind her, swiping her claws against the throat of the lioness who had her in her grip. But her fighting was in vain. Her legs were too short, she couldn't get close enough to make her claws do any damage.

She looked up, seeing nothing but dry desert stretched out before her. There were no gazelle, zebra, and antelope. No warthogs, meerkats, or hippo. No flamingo, or cheetah, jaguar or birds flying in the sky. None of her father's subjects were there to rush to the King and warn him of the danger she was in. She was utterly alone.

"Look Nuka, seems our little princess isn't so fearless afterall!" The tawny cub's laughter was the worst of all, grating her, taunting her. She growled, the sound low and desperate.

"Put her down!" Her father's voice came booming from behind her, Zira spinning around with Kiara's scruff held tightly in her jaws. Zira bit down harder, as if she was afraid to lose her grip. Kiara let out a yelp of pain, and began to purr again to try and distract herself from the pain in her neck, feeling the sticky blood oozing from fresh wounds.

"Oh! Lookie mommy! It's  _King_  Simba! Bow to the king!" Nuka laughed, dancing around his family members, "Look look, your plan is working, here he is!" Simba's roar cracked across the landscape with power enough to startle birds for miles across the Pridelands, and a herd of gazelle leaped away from their grazing to charge towards safer ground.

"Put her down and you'll get to walk away from this Outlander," Zira placed Kiara on the ground as she saw what appeared to be Simba's entire pride emerging from the grass. Her eyes darted from lioness to lioness, contemplating her chances of winning a fight. With Kiara on the ground her mouth was free to bark a roar back at Simba, showing her defiance. She would never bow to this false King; this wild jungle animal who spent more time hiding in the trees than amongst his own people before taking his rule.

"These lands belonged to scar," She defied, trying to stand over Kiara and claim her well-earned prize. Simba however, would have none of it. He leapt forward, throwing Zira back. The rest of his pride reacted in turn, until Vitani and Nuka were subdued as well.

"You will get out of the Pridelands. If I see you again, you and your cubs won't be able to return to the Outlands when I finish with you," Vitani now was the one who cowered under the weight of the lioness standing before her, purring to try and soothe the fear.

Nuka was still laughing, swinging his tail as four Lionesses kept him in check, obviously disturbed by this nearly grown male's disturbance.

Nala finally walked though the chaos, running up to her daughter, and went to pick her up but saw the teeth marks etched along her scruff.

"Kiara!"

"M-mom?" She looked up, realizing her salvation. She put her ears down, flopping onto her side to admit defeat, and show her submission to her parents before crawling over between her mother's forepaws, closing her eyes as her mother licked her wounds. She couldn't hear her father's tirade, or the growling of the lionesses roars around her. All that mattered is that these Outlanders where not taking her away. She was going home, to her beautiful Pridelands. She would never wander off that path again, her father was right, there were dangers. Dangers she never imagined.

Nala picked Kiara up by the middle, not wanting to aggravate the punctures in her scruff, looking up as Simba turned from the submissive lions before him, and the rest of the pride followed. Zira turned, her head low and Tawny and Nuka following close behind.

"Heed me Simba, your day will come. I will take Scar's lands back!" She roared defiantly once more, before scurrying off for her distant termite hill. That pathetic sun baked structure she called a home. But one day, she swore, Pride Rock would be hers; her children would walk those lush lands with more food than they could eat. No more having to knaw on sticks to subdue the hunger pains, no more failed hunting parties, no more eating insects and reptiles to survive. The bounties of Scar's rightful lands would be hers one day.

Simba led his pride, Nala close at his side. No words passed between them, and Kiara hung her ears low. She messed up badly this time, and knew that there was a world of trouble coming her way. But she would take whatever punishment her father had in store, even if she had to sit in her corner of Pride Rock for a week. Anything was better than being taken away by those awful Outlanders. At least she was going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I do really think that everything would have gone a LOT different had Kiara met Vitani and Nuka rather than Kovu. She wouldn't have seen the start of a friendship that led to the events of the entire movie. I also think such a traumatizing event at such a crucial age would have caused her to develop the same hatred for the Outlanders that her father had.


	4. The Little Mermaid, Rating: T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Question 4 by Heather: What if Eric HAD kissed Ariel on that boat before the three days were up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

**Question 4 by Heather: What if Eric HAD kissed Ariel on that boat before the three days were up?**

* * *

Ariel felt as if the river itself were singing, as if the world itself wanted Eric to lean in and kiss her as fervently as she was wishing he would. She had spent hours trying to look perfect for this date. Unable to talk, she wasn't able to explain to the girls assisting her as to what she wanted. They used a strange wooden device with a coarse hair to brush her hair when there was a perfectly good dinglehopper on the dresser table. She had wanted to impress Eric with her musical talents; she had no voice but Scuttle had taught her how to play a snarfbladt, and she had hoped she could rely on one to replace her missing voice. That however, was another unfortunate disappointment.

Eric's face drawing closer to hers drew her from her thoughts, and she closed her eyes to lean into him. Her heart pounded in her chest, the sound pulsing in her ears. She wondered if she would do it right, she had never done it before.

As soon as his lips touched hers she leaned in to him and was startled by a warm rush in her legs. She drew back, looking down and gasped as they briefly glowed a glittering yellow. The sharp stinging pain in her feet seemed to subside as if she had been gifted with feet all her life and they were not fresh infantile skin learning how to callous. Eric, however, seemed quite oblivious to the ominous glowing.

"Ariel…" He began, grasping her hands in hers. She looked down, noting how pale she was by comparison, her smooth complexion marred by a deep stinging rouge Eric called 'Sunburn'. She was used to life underwater, and had never spent enough time breached to be exposed to this 'Sunburn'. He had given her salves to help with the burn, and advised her to be more cautious about going out into the summer sun without proper protection. "I hope this isn't too forward, but… as Prince, it is my duty to take a wife… I have spent years searching for the right woman. I refused to marry any woman I was introduced to, passed the normal age for a man like me to get married. I never found her. Until now… Ariel… I know it's soon, but I think you're that woman I've been searching for. Will you be my wife?"

For a brief moment Ariel feared she would pass out from sheer ecstasy. The man she had loved and admired from afar, the man whose life she saved, the man for whom she was willing to sacrifice everything to be with, was asking her to be his wife. A broad smile tugged at her face as she nodded, squeezing Eric's hands that were still clasped with her own. He laughed at her enthusiasm and pulled her close for another kiss, promising they would be wed at once.

* * *

Flotsam and Jetsam looked up at the boat in horror, the various nefarious sea creatures having successfully kept them at bay. They had failed their mistress, and the little princess had managed to get her precious kiss from the human price. Ursula would not be pleased. They exchanged looks, the fear apparent in each other's eyes. The other creatures were distracted by their joyous success, and the eels were able to slip away without notice.

* * *

Usula's cavern was filling with blank ink as she screamed in frustration. "The little tramp wasn't supposed to get that Prince to kiss her in only three days! Now to get King Triton's Trident I'll have to take matters into my own hands!" She looked through her shelves, throwing an array of vials and beakers into her cauldron, a cacophony of colorful smoke pouring forth swirling with the still settling black inky clouds kicked up with each annoyed flick of Ursula's tentacles. "At once the Prince says! Well, I'll have to put a stop to that little fairy tale ending!" She turned back to her cauldron, singing to it in a dead language now only spoken by the members of the clan of witches. The sea had lost its control of the witches when they lost their knowledge of this dead language. None would stop her now, she would claim her rightful throne.

* * *

Ariel was wishing more than ever that she had not traded her voice. She joy that was filling her was one deserving of a song. As she twirled in her dress she closed her eyes and thought of the lyrics, the melody so vivid in her mind it was as if there were one of those spinning disks with a horn that bellowed music like the throat of a whale. She had already forgotten what Eric had told her they were called, Scuttle called it a whirlitwik. He had never steered her wrong before.

She stopped her nonsensical dancing as the serving girls came in with baskets full of lace, needles, threads, and jewelry that could put her mother's own collection to shame. She had never seen such smooth shiny rocks before. Diamonds, emeralds, gold, silver; such precious items were not even amongst her secret hiding place back home. They had already sewn her into her wedding gown, and were cooing over her as they sewed on the last of the decor, and adorned her with these precious rocks.

"You'll be the most beautiful bride France has ever seen!"

"No, that Europe has ever seen!"

"No! The world!" Ariel let them fuss, too overcome with glee to care. She could attend her wedding in nothing but the rags Scuttle had dressed her in the day she finally got to meet Eric on her two feet. Outside the window a tall ship was at harbor with fresh silky white sails, banners of white and gold adorned over the name of the ship. She couldn't read the texts of humans, the characters were different than those used by the seafolk even though the sounds were the same. But it was just another detail that failed to mar this most joyous day. Scuttle was sitting in the windowsill, the serving girls having stopped shooing him away after he returned for the fifth time. She looked at him in the window, waving her hands in front of her face in an excited gesture as Scuttle folded his feathers to give her an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Eric boarded the ship, loving the smell of the fresh paint. The new suit fitted him nicely, though it felt strange to board a seafaring vessel in something so formal. He never felt comfortable in such clothing, but it was his wedding day and he wanted to look perfect for Ariel. He wanted the wedding to take place at sea because he had first met Ariel on the shoreline, and every night since he met her she would return to the shore and look out at sea as if she was looking for something. When he had told her his idea for a wedding at sea she beamed with joy at the prospect and the decision was made.

The priest took him by the arm, the stout elderly man leading him to the alter as a score of men boarded the ship; the groomsmen, musicians, caterers, servers, sailors, and then finally were Ariel's bridesmaids. And Ariel was not far behind, her beautiful youthful face covered behind a sheer white veil.

He gasped when he saw her, standing at the end of the aisle as everyone prepared for the ceremony. It felt like he was told not a few minutes ago the ceremony would not be for several hours. The time was finally here. The captain gave a series of shouts and the freshly made sails unfurled as the men tied them down quickly, the ships anchor hurled aboard as the ropes were thrown from the docks. With one shuddering lurch the ship was tugged out to sea until the wind caught her sails and she floated on her own strength, the shoreline slowly becoming a thin line on the horizon.

Music flooded the ship as the caterers set up the food, the servers setting the tables, the groomsmen and bridesmaids taking their places as the priest pulled out an old leather-bound Bible, even from a few feet away Eric could make out its musty scent as a poof of dust lifted into the air as the man dropped it upon the podium.

The music changed abruptly, and the elderly man who was always by Eric's side took her arm, standing in for her father. They had believed that her father was killed in the nonexistent shipwreck that brought her to their shores. It was easier to have them believe that than to try to explain that he was the King of a race of beings humans thought were only imaginary. He led her to the alter, and when she was close enough to Eric to fully see him her heart once again began to beat wildly in her chest, her mouth felt dry as if she had stuffed linens into it. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and the bouquet in her hand became slick as her palms soaked with a nervous sweat. Eric pulled back her veil and she felt her anxiety subside as she got to look into his eyes.

Infatuated with eachother, Eric and Ariel failed to notice the gurlgling waters around them until the ceremony was interrupted as the ship lurched violently to port, and the screams of the passengers as a large being emerged from the waters. Ariel recognized Ursula immediately, the golden shell necklace still around her neck as she towered over the waters. Ursula was using every ounce of power she had left, her shelves of ingredients exhausted and she knew the effects would be brief. She just needed it to last long enough to draw Ariel into another trap. If she could put Eric's life in danger, she could put Ariel under enough duress to sign a new contract. One that would cause Ariel to sell herself to Ursula in exchange for allowing the petty price into live.

Eric tried to pull Ariel away, but a large black tentacle dropped onto the ship shattering through the wood, splinters raining on the guests who were fighting over the lifeboats until another tentacle came down and shattered what boats remained on the starboard side of the ship. Those who were still standing after the attack wasted no time diving into the ocean, trusting in the currents to have a greater chance at survival than the ship itself. The clouds overhead gathered in a rumbling blackness, and lighting cracked across the sky until a bolt came crashing down causing the mast of the ship to explode into thousands of small wooden shards raining fire down upon the boat.

"Ariel!" she vaguely heard his voice, her ears were ringing from the great boom of the mast as it was struck down by the sky itself. The fury of the ocean was whirling around them, the broken ship rocking dangerously. She looked around for the source of the disembodied voice and saw her prince running for her. She stood up to run to him, and found the dress was snagged on the jagged boards of the ship, and the fire creeping closer. He finally reached her, pulling desperately to loose her dress from the boards. Before he could free her the ship lurched once more, groaning painfully as she keeled into her side, spilling the remaining survivors into the sea.

The cold water met Ariel with merciless brutality. She felt the salty brine fill her eyes, nose, ears, and mouth. She opened her mouth to gasp for breath, desperate for the sea to fill her lungs with the oxygen they were screaming for. She tugged uselessly at the shattered wood, and clawed at the dress trying to tear it away from herself if she could not tear it away from the boat. The lack of air was screaming inside of her chest, the throbbing in her ears drowning out the other horrible sounds filling the waters. Her head suddenly began to feel as if thousands of fish were swimming inside of it, and thousands of crabs were snapping their claws in her lungs. Her muscles were screaming, her heart throbbing even faster. She didn't remember pulling the dress away, and didn't remember when the arms coiled around her. She just remembered coughing violently, wrenching up the contents of her stomach into the churning waters as someone threw her onto a floating piece of the wreckage.

"Ariel! Are you alright?!" She opened her eyes, her vision not having fully returned, her body still trembling as her oxygen starved body rebelled against her.

"Father?" She asked, squinting at the form before her. Father would save the day, he would use his trident and put Ursula back in her place! He would give her, her water lungs back. He would give her, her beloved fins again and she could find and rescue Eric. Eric! "Eric!" She shouted, or thought she shouted, nothing but silence pouring through her burning throat. Her eyes were burning now, and she couldn't clear them. She tried to rub at them but a pair of familiar hands pulled them away.

"It's me, Eric! Ariel you have to calm down! The captain managed to set off one flare before the ship went down. Help is coming, just hold on!" Before either could react, the long black tentacles slammed down once more, destroying the one lifeboat that managed to survive the chaos, as two more reached for Ariel and Eric, lurching them high into the air.

"What adorable little lovers. I think this fairy tale needs a proper ending! Happy endings are  _so_  overrated these days! Let's try something…  _fresh"_ Eric cried out in pain as Ursula curled her tentacle around him, Ariel letting out a mute scream as she reached for him. "Don't worry little princess, your prince will be fine, as long as you're willing to make another little bargain. Now lets see… might be hard to negotiate without your voice." Ursula looked at the necklace round her neck, and clasped it, "Such a pretty trinket…" she gave it a hard squeeze as a glowing yellow light flooded from it, flying towards Ariel and down her throat. A melodic note poured from her throat as her voice returned,

"Ursula!" She howled angrily, pushing uselessly with her aching arms against the great witches tentacles.

"No need for that now dear! You'll leave a mark! Now, if you listen closely, your little prince here will be just fine. I just want to make a little… deal with you."

"After what you just did! Why should I trust you!"

"You're a smart little child now, I am sure you can see the consequences if refusing my generous offer. You don't want to be selfish now, do you?" She gave Eric another tight squeeze, the gutwrenching scream that poured out of him tore at Ariel's heart,

"Stop it!,"

"Then let's be civilized adults here," Eric looked at the two of them, sure that he was hallucinating from smoke inhalation. A giant talking centaur-like octopus woman and his mute fiancé talking as if they knew each other? He wanted to ask what in blazes was going on, what sick fantasy had his oxygen deprived brain concocted? But the pressure around his chest was to great to choke out a single word, every ounce of strength was used just to draw breath,

"How can you call this civilized!"

"Now now sweet child, I think you don't realize the gravity of the situation. And here I thought you were such a smart young girl. So let me spell it out for you," Her tone changed from one of mocking sincerity, to one dark and threatening, "Either you sell me your soul, or I squeeze the life out of your precious little prince. Humans, such fragile little creatures. I could even do it just by dragging him underwater. Do your father a favor! So, make your choice!"

"Ursula no!"

"Three,"

"Don't do this!"

"Two…"

"I'm begging you!"

"One…"

"Yes!" Ariel shouted, black streams rushing down her cheeks as tears mixed with the ashes gathered on her face. Ursula held out a familiar set of items to her, and she reluctantly grabbed the pointed shell and scrawled her signature across the glowing roll of parchment. The grip around her loosened suddenly and she plummeted once more into the cold Atlantic waters, but as she hit the ocean the water that filled her lungs brought precious relief, she kicked her feet for a moment to reach the surface only to realize she now had fins. The tattered remains of her undergarments clung to her torso, ragged bits of her petticoat floating away as she lost her womanly hips to conform to a more natural merfolk shape more conductive to swimming.  _Eric!_  She kicked her fins, moving to the surface only to feel herself grabbed once more and dragged back under.

"I think it's time we paid your daddy a little visit…"

"You promised Eric would be okay!"

"Dear sweet child, I never break my promises. Eric wasn't lying, a flare went up and more ships are coming. They'll find him floating safely, alive and well, on the largest floating object I could find. " Ursula ignored the teen's protests as she dragged her through the waters, but had hardly made it a hundred meters when King Triton stood before her, an army of merfolk behind him and his faithful trident in hand.

"What is the meaning of this Ursula!"

"Why King Triton! It's been ages! How are you dear friend!" He pointed the trident at her, the ends glowing red belching out bubbles as the heat immediately evaporated the water around it.

"No time for games. Let her go  _now_  Ursula, or I'll be forced to end you."

"No no no, see, that's not how this goes. You see, she sold her soul to me! So, I have a better claim to her than you do. But, being an honest woman, I am willing to make you a deal. You hand over your trident, and I'll return your daughter!" King Triton raised the trident higher, his guard stepping forth and pointing their swords in her direction but laughed at the empty threat and held up the contract Ariel had signed, "Legal and binding by all laws of the sea. You have no choice Triton. Your trident, or your daughter,"

"Daddy no!" She shouted, watching helplessly as her father traded his trident for the glimmering contract. Ursula released her grip on Ariel, and suddenly began to laugh, feeling the throbbing warmth of the trident's power pulsing through her hands.

Ariel and Triton embraced, Ariel begging her father's forgiveness and in a flurry of rushed words tried to explain what was going on.

* * *

At the surface of the ocean Eric gazed at the devastation around him. The great beast was gone, but the storm above still raged. He knew his fleet would risk life or death to bring him back to his kingdom, the heir to the throne must not be lost. His father would have every single sailor executed if they were to ignore a flare from the royal family. He could see the sails, and was surprised how close they were already. Had he lost consciousness? How long was he out? Then he thought of Ariel. She had to have survived! The last he saw her she was alive in well in the great beast's tentacles. Or was that just a hallucination? Brought on by a blow to the head or smoke inhalation. It was a storm that brought the ship down, lightning that destroyed her. He last saw Ariel desperately tugging her wedding dress before the ship went down.

 _No._  He knew what he saw was real, as wild as it may be. Ariel was alive. And she traded herself to save him. And what was that necklace that suddenly allowed her to speak? And in that voice… the voice he had heard on the beach the night he was saved from a shipwreck much like this one. He was interrupted in his thoughts as he was pulled roughly onto a ship.  _Here, already? Did I pass out again?_  The men were fussing about him, asking too many questions to ever answer. Someone was pushing a flask to his lips, and he took it gratefully. The warmth filled him, and he realized it was a strong wine. He took a long gulp, and tried to gather his senses. As he was given water and bread he felt he was able to collect his thoughts. Much to his delight there were other survivors on board. Not enough, but some. Perhaps Ariel was among them. He begged the crew to search for his bride, but they all told the same tale. They found bits of her dress, but never found the girl.

Before the horror of such news could settle in, the waters began to churn once more. The great beast returned, wearing a golden crown and a glowing trident. The ships lurched as the waves began to grow, the booming voice of the great beast so loud and deep they couldn't make out what words it was saying. The sky above turned black, the storm grew angrier. Eric knew the beast had been real! And he realized the beast had taken his Ariel. He would win her back. He would defeat this great beast at all costs. He ran up to the helm, men chasing him beckoning for him to return.

"Sir! Stop! We must get you home! We must run from that great monster!" He ignored their cries, and commanded the captain to step down. Eric looked up in horror to see the great beast swing its foul tentacles once more, destroying three ship with ease, and knocking the mast down on his ship. The force of the impact knocked him down, and threw several men overboard.  _Please, no more death! Today was supposed to be a day of great joy!_

"Eric!" Ariel burst through the surface of the water, her father beside her. They looked at the horrors around them. Even Triton looked in disgust at the slaughter that was being committed by Ursula. He never felt the guilt of the deaths of humans, but that was always at the hands of the storms, or a misguided ship. This was unnatural. This was a massacre. The pair watched, utterly helpless without Triton's trident. Ariel spotted one ship with a shattered mast, the great pier of wood laying across the ship's bow like a great spear. As it lurched towards Ursula, she prayed that the power-mad witch would not notice, and her prayers were answered as a great thunderous cry erupted from the witches throat.

Eric groaned as he struggled to keep her on course, whatever God existed answered his prayer and flooded his sails with wind, pushing all the great ship's weight into the shattered spear that now lay across the ship's bow. Crimson blood poured across the mast and onto the bow of the ship, Eric held on for a few more moments until he was sure she dealt the fatal blow. The agonized cry of the great beast echoed through the swirling storm, its wrathful tentacles taking out two more ships in its death thralls. Eric dove from the ship, hoping the last of his strength would drag him just far enough away to survive the thrashing of the great beast. The currents churned suddenly, and he realized the ship and the beast were going down. He opened his eyes but everything was too black, he didn't know which way the surface was. He blew bubbles but couldn't tell which way they floated. He couldn't find  _up_. His chest was screaming, and his muscles failed to obey his command to swim as they cried out for oxygen. His head grew light, and then he knew nothingness.

* * *

"Want…part….your…" He heard vague singing, the voice… it was  _that_  voice. The one from the first time he was saved. It was…  _Ariel's_  voice. Was he in the afterlife? Had they died? No… his aching body told him he was very much so alive. "Part of your, world." That voice ,it was the most beautiful sound he ever heard. His vision came in segments. First nothing but light and dark. Then fuzzy shapes, soon the fuzzy shapes had color, and finally everything came in clearly. His eyes still stung, his nose and throat were on fire from all the hot smoke. But he was alive, and Ariel was alive.

"Are you alright son?" He looked up and saw a large bearded figure with fins for legs sitting in the shallows of the water. Ariel was lying beside him, with fins in place of her legs.  _Merfolk? Merfolk are real?_ After what he just saw, he had no doubts such creatures could live.

"Who are you?" Eric croaked, finding it hard to speak. He was familiar with this injury, many sailors who survived shipwrecks returned home this way.

"I am King Triton, Lord of the Sea. I see you have taken to my daughter Ariel. For centuries I thought you humans were nothing but monsters, slaughtering the fishfolk with no heed for others. But your selflessness has shown me perhaps all humans are not bad." Triton did not trust humans as a whole, but he supposed he could trust just this one. During the hours he was unconscious, he and Ariel spoke at length. Many words, tears, and emotions were exchanged. And Triton gave Ariel his blessing to marry this human. "You have my blessing to marry my daughter, should that still be your wish." Eric was at a loss for words, still confused as to what was going on. He looked up at Ariel though, and knew, no matter what, she was still what mattered most.

"Ariel is the most important thing in my life. I'd do anything for her." Ariel beamed with delight, tackling Eric into the sand and burying her face into his chest. She drew back suddenly, as a warm filled her fins and felt the divide run up along her body and she looked down, finding her fins were now legs, the tattered remains of her clothing replaced with a glittering silver gown. She turned to her father, a sad smile on his face,

"Thank you daddy," Her father smiled at her, giving her a short nod, and she turned back to Eric. "I love you!"

"I love you, Ariel. My little mermaid,"

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay cliche cheesy as #$% endings!


	5. Beauty and the Beast, Rating: T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Question 5: Posted by ff.net user Night-Walker: "What if when Belle was attacked by wolves, and the Beast didn't come in time?" (she doesn't have to die)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

**Question 5: Posted by ff.net user Night-Walker: "What if when Belle was attacked by wolves, and the Beast didn't come in time?" (she doesn't have to die)**

* * *

Her tears felt as if they were freezing to her cheeks as they rolled down her face. The bitter winter wind was colder than had anticipated, but her own adrenaline was keeping her warm. The booming cries of the Beast were still echoing in her ears, she had never been so frightened. She knew she had made a promise, but this was one she could not keep. As she ushered Phillip through the snow, she came to the quick conclusion that she was lost, but she continued on. She was barely a mile from the castle when several bats flew from the hollow of a tree, and Phillip began rearing back, Belle struggling to control the thoroughbred.

The first snarl came from her left, she turned quickly to see a pair of yellow eyes peering at her through the darkness. In seconds, the entire pack had descended upon them. She urged Phillip onward, pushing the horse to his limits. She spotted a clearing, and hoped it was enough to allow the horse to gain some ground on the hungry pack behind them, but to her horror she found herself waist-deep in a frozen river. Her legs felt as though she were being stabbed thousands of times, her feet no longer telling her that they were still part of her body. But Phillip struggled on, the instinct to survive surpassing the burst of fear and pain that came with falling through the ice. They pulled though, and Belle hoped with all her heart that the wolves had fallen into the river and they would be able to escape to safety. But like all her prayers recently, this one want unanswered. One of the wolves managed to get ahead of Phillip, causing the great stallion to rear up, throwing Belle roughly into the frozen ground below.

She looked up in horror to find the wolf back enclosing on Phillip. She loved that horse, and she also knew he was her only chance of escaping these woods alive. She grabbed the only thing in sight, a stick, and swung it at the first wolf that leaped at Phillip. She desperately reached up for the reins, trying to free him only to have another wolf grab her cloak. The pressure on her throat caused her to gag, dropping her stick as she clutched at her throat. The animal let go of her garment, and she grasped blindly in the snow for her only form of defense, her fingers had gone pale and her lips blue, the loss of feeling in her legs making it exceedingly difficult to stand. She heard the desperate braying of Phillip, tears coming to her eyes as she tried in vain to fend off her attackers.

She swung the stick with what little strength the cold hadn't sapped from her body, and was given a rejuvenating bolt of confidence from the loud yelp by the wolf she struck.  _Maybe if I can hurt them enough, they'll go away._ Her hope was short lived, as another larger member of the pack tore the stick from hands, leaving her defenseless. She whipered and reached up again for the branch that had Phillip trapped, but the reigns were desperately tangled and the branch too thick to simply snap.

A cry of pain erupted from her throat as her foot was pulled out from under her, the wind knocked from her as she came crashing down onto one of the roots of the trees. Feeling rushed back into her foot as the wolf's teeth sank deeper into her ankle, the warm blood running down her ankle and melting small dots in the snow.

"No!" She cried out, kicking with her good foot to get the wolves away. Her other foot manage to hit the wild dog in the face, jarring it just long enough to pull her injured foot away. Reaching up once more, she tried to pull herself onto the horse who appeared to have wounds of his own. "Please… please…" She pleaded, to whom or for exactly what she did not know. But she just needed to pray. Two more wolves descended upon her, one raking his claws across her back and she braced herself for what she expected to come. But instead, she heard several loud yelps. Phillip had kicked the two wolves off of her, giving her just enough time to grasp his bit, and pull the reigns off of the horse.

It seemed Phillip had managed to scare the wolves enough for them to regroup, and encircle the pair once more. Belle threw a glance at her ankle, which was now swollen, and anywhere that wasn't soaked in blood was bright purple. She let out a bestial scream as she pulled herself onto Phillip, struggling to sit up and keep the weight off of her damaged ribs. She knew she was hurt bad, and that she was hopelessly lost. The village was miles from the castle, and she had no idea in which direction it lay. Her only hope lay with returning to the castle. And the thought alone brought more tears to her eyes.  _No… not back there. Please._ She knew her options were limited. At least to the castle she could attempt to backtrack over Phillip's tracks in the snow, it wasn't snowing heavily enough to have buried them entirely already.

"Phillip… back to the castle… it's our only hope." The horse wasted no time, now free of the encumbering reigns he tore through the woods, kicking and stomping on the wolves as he went. They reached the edge of the frozen river, and Belle's heart broke. Phillip stalled at the shoreline, giving the wolves enough time to catch up again. Before she had time to react, one of them had leaped onto her back, digging his teeth deeps into her cloak before Phillip reared up again, knocking both Belle and the wolf unceremoniously onto the sloped ground. They both tumbled down the slippery slope and plunged into the deathly cold river below.

Belle's world went silent. The water muted any sound but the throbbing of her own heart in her ears, the black water stinging her eyes forcing them closed. Her body felt as if she had been thrown into a fire, her skin begging for relief, her whole mind consumed with thoughts of warmth. She imaged the fireplace in her room, and how warm it felt when the fire was roaring. She imagined hot soup, warm clothes, blankets. Dear God she would give anything just to be warm again. Soon the burning on her skin was taken over by the burning in her lungs that screamed for air. She coughed, the strain of holding her breath growing to much. Where was up? She kicked her legs, moving in whatever direction she was already facing. She felt something hard above her.  _Ice?_  She had ended up somewhere further downriver than where she fell in. She had no idea where the opening was. Her world was growing dimmer. She clawed at the ice fruitlessly, and swore she saw a shadow above the ice. The shadow dimmed for a moment, and her entire world went black.

* * *

She awoke slowly, hardly aware she was awake. She couldn't make out sounds, like her ears were full of water. Her vision was blurred too.  _Am I still in the river? Is this what dying feels like?_  But no… she wasn't cold anymore. Her skin wasn't afire, her lungs were crying for air. She was aware however, that a large band across her lower chest was throbbing, as was her ankle and swatches of her back.  _Did I find my way out of the river?_  She closed her eyes, going black again.

* * *

" _Belle?"_  Voices, this time the sounds were more clear, she could decipher voices. But everything still looked blurry. She shifted her eyes, and saw a shadow.  _Am I still under the ice? That's the shadow I saw above the ice… Phillip?_ And the sounds grew dim, the world grew black.

* * *

"…sorry. There I said it. I'm sorry" The voice was much clearer now, she even knew who it was. It was the Beast. She could even make out his outline. But how? She ran away from the castle.  _I must be outside. I ran away, maybe the villagers found me_. Things started growing dimmer, but she fended off the blackness.

"Where…" She tried to speak, but found the sounds she made were not words. She couldn't collect enough breath to speak a sentence. She became aware again of her pains, and gasped.

"Now try to sit still darling, can't be much help if you're fussing about!"  _Mrs. Potts? Maybe I am at the castle… did Beast… come back for me?_  She was aware of something warm on her leg, and tried to look down.  _Water?_   _No! No more water! I'm drowning!_  She didn't want the water anymore, it was so damned cold, and she couldn't breathe. Dear God her chest hurt…  _I must be under water, I'm wet… my chest hurts…_  but after a few more moments she became more coherent again. She realized only her ankle was wet, and there was someone brushing a rag against it.  _Cleaning my wounds?_

"Belle, say something." Beast again. But his voice was so much softer. This couldn't be the same man who bellowed so vicously at her only hours ago.  _Minutes, hours, days? How long have I been gone?_  Her mind clouded again as she tried to recall how long ago she had left the castle, and frustrated at her inability to think clearly.  _You're smarter than this Belle. Fight. Come on, think clearly_  But the thoughts wouldn't come. All the fighting made her sleepy, she closed her eyes _Just for a moment_. And succumbed to the blackness once more.

* * *

When Belle awoke, she felt as if she had been asleep for days. She awoke feeling strangely refreshed, awake, and clearer than before. No voices this time, but she could clearly see she was in her room. Mrs. Potts was sitting by the door, Lumiere was asleep by the bedside table, and the door was partially cracked open.

"What happened?" She croaked, finding her voice was still weak and crackling. Everyone woke up with such fever it was as if she had shouted the word "fire" at the top of her lungs.

"She's awake!" Lumiere shouted, and Cogsworth's came running in, a flurry of cogs and screws.

"We must fetch the master at once!"

"The dear must be absolutely starving! And she could use a nice spot of tea too!" Mrs. Potts left the room on her rather animated cart, Lumiere and Cogsworth also dashing from the room. She knit her brows as she felt the urge to stretch, but as soon as she tried every part of her body screamed for her to stop. All at once she could feel every scratch, bite, bump, bruise. She suddenly noticed the bandages on her hands, and when she pulled the blankets back one of her ankles was wrapped in a heavy heap of linens. A water basin was on the table by the foot of the bed, and even from this distance she could tell that the waters were stained crimson, and that the red pile of rags next to the bowl had once been linens.

Her bedroom door creaked open, and Beast loomed in the doorway. After seeing him in such a blind rage she found it strange how shy he looked, his blue eyes focused on his toes.

"Belle… are you… uh, okay?"

"What happened?" Even his voice was different. Much softer, gentler, calmer.

"You… you ran away. I went after you, but you had been attacked by wolves. You fell into the river, but I managed to pull you out before you drowned."

"Oh… thank you…" She managed, knitting her brows as she tried to reconstruct the events of  _was it last night?_   _The night before? Just a few moments ago?_

"How long have I been out?"

"About two days…" It was then Belle noticed the bandages on his arms as well,

"You're hurt…"

"I was… uh. Fighting off the wolves…"

"Does it hurt?" She asked stupidly, the throbbing in her own wounds answering the question for her.

"Yeah, well, none of this would have happened, if you didn't run away." He looked up with a new conviction, his eyes bright with the stubbornness of a child.

"If you hadn't frightened me I wouldn't have run away!" She replied, wishing she had the strength to sit up.

"Well,  _you_  shouldn't have been in the West Wing!"

"Well _you_ should learn how to control your temper!" Beast opened his mouth to reply, holding up a finger as if to make a point before his expression quickly dropped, his brown furrowed.

"I… I'm sorry" He apologized. He looked at her, noticing she had taken the covers back and he could see her bandages. "Let me change those for you." He dragged up a chair, grabbing some fresh linens from the wardrobe and using the hot water Mrs. Potts had originally heated up for tea. Belle watched with astonishment at how gentle he could be, and wondered, if behind all that anger, was a soul that was just as gentle.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay more cheesy as #$% endings! Whoo!
> 
> I just couldn't bring myself to kill off Belle, and the asker did say she didn't necessarily have to die


	6. Mulan, Rating: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By ff.net user Shabon Flurry: "What if Mulan's meeting with the matchmaker hadn't been a complete disaster?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

**By ff.net user Shabon Flurry: "What if Mulan's meeting with the matchmaker hadn't been a complete disaster?"**

 

* * *

Mulan winced, thankful for the layer of paint coating her cheeks to hide the deep rouge that she could feel burning in her skin, the matchmakers mocking tone rang in her ears

"Speaking without permission…" her placid face remained stoic as she scribbled a quill against the parchment.

"Oops.."  _This is a bad start; I can't bring shame to my family. I must get a good match. I must bring honor to the Fa name._  She followed the matchmaker through the doors. She winced, startled, when the large oak doors slammed shut, the brass handles ringing as they swung against the door. She heard the woman approach and turned, watching the woman swarm around.

"Too skinny… not good for bearing sons." Mulan tried to straighten, give herself better posture. The matchmaker had to say  _something_  positive. She was no skinnier than most of her village, food may not have been abundant but she was never for want of a meal. Her musing was interrupted when she saw her lucky cricket on the matchmakers shoulder. Her first instinct was to grab him, put him back into his cage. Her hands trembled as she agonized of the decision, when it was made for her. "Recite the final admonition." Mulan nodded,

"Fulfill your duties kindly and… respectfully," she paused.  _What comes next?_  She saw the matchmakers back turned to her, and she lifted her hand, allowing the sleeve of her dress to slide back to reveal the now smudged writing on her hand, "reflect before you act. This will bring you honor and glory." She let out an exhale, wanting to grab her fan to burn this anxiety, but she insisted to herself that she remain upright.

"Now, pour the tea," Mulan looked at the table where the matchmaker gestured, the rest of her words an incomprehensible mumble drowned out by distraction and the blood pouring through her ears. She thought she heard the word 'poised' in those mingled words, and focused on maintaining her composure as she grabbed the teapot, kneeling before the table. She poured the tea into the cups, and saw her damnable cricket pour out of the pot.  _What kind of 'lucky' cricket is this? He's trying to sabotage me!_  She reached for the cup quickly, pulling it back hoping the matchmaker would reach for the cup without the insect.

The matchmaker grabbed the glass, giving her a foul look before inhaling deeply, and sipping the steaming liquid. "Nothing is more soothing than tea. A good wife will always have hot tea ready for her husband when he returns from his days work," Mulan wanted to respond, but recalled those harsh words and bit her tongue,  _Don't speak without permission… get a good match._ She had to fight her inner urges. She had to suppress who she was.  _What's my next task?_

"Now, cook the rice and the fish. A woman must provide a warm meal with the tea," Mulan stood, hoping the damnable cricket wouldn't try to interfere with this task. Her grandmother had meant well, and crickets were often a sign of luck. The short distance to the crackling fire felt like the march to execution. Rice was simple enough, a task she had learned as a little girl. And fish, she was lucky her little village had a river to the west and fish was a treat her family could enjoy when they took the time to take the horses.

Her hands moved deftly, trying to focus on the task at hand in silence. At home she would sing or hum to herself while she worked, twirling around the room like a naïve child. But this was no time for such frivolities, how foolish would she look were she to behave as such now?  _Why can't I just show her who I am inside, to get a match who would appreciate me for me?_  Dismayed, she completed her task, disregarding what she considered the unimportant advice from the matchmaker. She plated her simple meal, setting it on the table and kneeling back at the table after offering a respectful short bow to the matchmaker.

"Hmm…" The woman mused, grabbing one of the plates. She took a pinch of rice between her fingers, "good consistency, holds together without being too sticky," She took a bite, and made a short hum that Mulan hoped was a mark of satisfaction. She moved on to the fish, against poking at it and wafted the smell to her nose make more noncommittal monosyllabic sounds as she evaluated the food. "Knows how to prepare simple meal," she made a mark on the parchment.  _Simple meal? That was my task, did I do it right?_  "Hmm… The Fa family has had a farm for generations. You must know how to tend to the animals?"

"Yes," Mulan kept it simple. Her eyes lit up at the question, she adored her animals. She loved the long hard work on the farm and it was finally an area the matchmaker broached that she could show enthusiasm for. She could have carried on, for hours she was sure, but bit down on her lip and bowed to the matchmaker.

"Hmm… yes… yes," More marks on the parchment.  _More questions? I'm worthy… I can bring honor._ She stayed kneeling, her calm face hiding her agitation with the help of the thick makeup cloaking her features. "Are you able to milk a cow?"

"Yes Ma'am…"

"Slaughter and prepare a chicken?"

"Yes Ma'am,"  _Though chickens are better used for eggs, not for slaughter. They give us the gift of food without needing to give us their life; it is dishonorable to slaughter them._  "though they are better used for their eggs, they can provide more food that way," She cursed herself for losing her composure, for speaking her mind.

"Awareness of situational needs…"

 _Odd phrase… wait. Awareness.. . That's a good sign. I must have pleased her. Keep this up Mulan, you can do this! Emerge from here an honorable and betrothed woman!_  The matchmaker was clucking her tongue, and asked several more questions.

"Yes yes, you could make an honorable wife for Ouyang Kang's elder son Xin ."

 _A match? I got a match! Ouyang, is that a family who will bring great honor to the name Fa?_   _Can I finally honor the Fa family as Oyuang Mulan?_

"You are dismissed. The Oyuang Kang shall be informed of my find, and Fa Zhuo will be notified at once for an arrangement. You are dismissed."  _Do I thank her? Did she address me to answer? Silence… silence is better_. Mulan stood, bowed low to the matchmaker, and made her way through the doors outside. The brightness of the morning sun briefly startled her, and she tried to mask the goofy grin until she came to where her mother and grandmother awaited her. A broad smile traced her features,

"Mother! She found a match," Tears came to her eyes when she saw her mother smile, "Ouyang Kang's son," She paused,  _wait, is this a good match? Was I given an honorable family?_

"An honorable match Mulan! Ouyang has been a breeder of horses for half the villages in this region. Oh Mulan! I couldn't be more proud!" Her mother embraced her, pulling her close. "I knew you could do this,"  _But I was not myself… will I like Ouyang Kang's son?_

The family parted, the sound of the matchmaker calling the next girl carried through the village center. They made their way back, and Mulan could hardly contain her excitement, or mask her nervousness. Zhuo was awaiting them at the entrance to their home, leaning on his cane smiling in his calm subtle way.

"So, how did it go?"

"I have been matched father, Ouyang Kang's son," He embraced her as suddenly as her mother had, laughing,

"Oh Mulan, I knew you could bring us great honor," She smiled at him and he held a firm hand on her shoulder, "The matchmaker will send him a letter, and we will soon discuss the details of betrothal. Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the village bell, the family went to the gates. Mulan heard someone said 'Imperial Troops', and watched her father disappear through the gate. Despite her grandmother's urgings she ran up to the wall, clambering up so she could peer over the edge and see what was happening.  _Oh no… transcription notices!_  They mentioned the Huns. _The Huns? What do they want with China? We built our great wall, how did they get past the Great Wall?!_

"The Fa family," Mulan heard her family name, and watched her father hand her mother his cane, and limp up to the soldier.

"No…" She jumped down from her perch, to defend her father. Her father already fought for China, she couldn't allow him to fight again. He was injured, he could never survive a great battle. He had brought great honor to the Fa name, and his daughter had finally brought honor. What more could he need? She ran out the gates, starting the events that would change her destiny.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this =)


	7. The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Rating: E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Question by ff.net user Peculiarities: what if in The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Frollo and his guards didn't interrupt Esmeralda and Phoebus in the church?
> 
> This one is a shameless lemon guys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on 
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney. 
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

**Question by ff.net user Peculiarities: what if in The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Frollo and his guards didn't interrupt Esmeralda and Phoebus in the church?**

 

Phoebus looked at the foreign beauty before him. When he had last left Paris he had seen little of the gypsies, and was taken aback by her exotic beauty. Her olive skin and dark hair were a contrast to the usual fair brunettes he oft courted. Her almond eyes bored through him, and he felt unusually vulnerable.

With his sword sheathed she lowered her own makeshift weapon, standing close enough that he could appreciate the scent of her. It was entirely natural, with none of the scents the Parisian women often donned. It was pleasant to be around a woman who smelled like a  _woman._  Not that he would have complained, having spent so much time in the camaraderie of men, he was appreciative to be with a member of the other gender.

Esmeralda was looking at him with mingled and contradicting emotions. He appeared different from the other soldiers, even his uniform did not appear to be of modern design. How long had this man been away from the city? Did he know the corruption which gripped her? He was certainly handsome, despite his age and seeming preference for older styles. She was never fond of these new fashions gripping the upper class as of late, and what the upper class chose the peasants often mimicked in a vein hope of one day crawling out of the squalor in which they lived.

Impulse captured the pair, the fighting lighting an unidentified spark. Phoebus felt his heart beginning to race as he leaned forward, their lips meeting in a hesitant kiss. His hands reaching up to grip the odd woman's arms. Her skin felt oddly smooth for one who looked so poor. His hands against her reminded him how long he had been without, and found himself deepening the kiss.

Esmeralda felt him grip her tighter, his mouth opening eagerly, and she found herself returning the gesture.  _What the hell is wrong with me?_  But her doubts failed to squelch the fires of arousal sending shards of desire from her core throughout her limbs. She welcomed him, and placed her hands on his chest, returning his spontaneous kiss enthusiastically. She didn't realize how tense she had been these passing weeks,  _months, years?_  She mused.  _This is one hell of an outlet_. But she was screaming for release. Her hands drifted, fumbling with the leather belts clasping the gaudy armor to this stranger. Propriety be damned; not that she was an innocent blushing virgin to begin with.

He seemed to be just as caught up as she was, helping her unclasp his sword, hearing it fall to the floor with a loud clatter. Phoebus grasped her garments to find what to untie, finding the delicate threat at the base of her neck, hidden by her thick curls. He pulled at it carefully, and helped her out of her top while she clawed at his belt holding his tunic firmly against his waist.

"Not a soldier who cares for propriety are you?" Esmeralda asked as her top fell to the floor.

"You're not a highborn lady yourself." He smirked, admiring her breasts. They were still high on her chest, a sign of her youth. She was unlike any woman he had seen, her nipples were a dark chocolate, and the foreignness strengthened his arousal. He reached for them and claimed her lips hungrily. She responded in kind, her fingers deftly pulling his belt away with one swift motion, breaking their kiss once again to tear the tunic over his head. They fumbled with the remainder of his armor, his leggings partially rusted putting a halt to their passionate pace,

"Paris can't afford better armor?" She teased, a mischievous smirk spreading across her features. Phoebus gave her an irritated look before pulling off the armor pieces himself. He nearly fell over when she pushed herself against him, her fingers deftly pulling at the strings holding his leggings up, and he stepped back out of them.

"Eager are we?"

"You don't seem to be protesting," She smirked, quickly as he grasped her by the shoulders and pushed her back against the wall of the church. She shivered as the cool stone touched her bare skin, and gasped when she felt him place his hands between her legs.

Phoebus was taken aback. It had been so long since he had been with a woman, what a welcome home this was. Her arousal was obvious as he easily slipped his fingers easily inside of her, and felt her buck her hips against his hand. He used his free hand to grasp her breast, and with the other thrust two fingers and pulling back, matching the rhythm she was making as she rolled her hips and heard her give a vivacious moan, and felt her bring her arm wrap tight around him, her nails dragging against his back. He found a moan break the sound of his ragged breathing as she grabbed him firmly, stroking him in a sensuous rhythm,

"Now where on earth does a lady learn to behave like this?" He asked,

"Same place a man does," He smirked at her, grasping her by the hips, lifting her and pushing her forcefully against the wall, entering her with a single thrust, groaning at the contact. Her arms coiled around him tight, her nails raking across his back.

Esmeralda let a moan escape her lips, enjoying every moment of this ecstasy. Phoebus was supporting them both, and she wrapped one of her long legs around him; arcing her back to tilt her hips towards him. She leaned her head back against the stone wall, groaning as Phoebus kissed her neck. Her body was afire with sensation,  _the damn solider knows what he's doing_  Caught in the heat of passion she lifted an arm, grasping his hair and pulling him close for a deep kiss, feeling his tongue hungrily claim her mouth. Her fingers pulled at his hair tightly as she felt herself getting closer to the edge.

"Seven circles of hell…. Is  _this_  what they teach you in the military?" she whispered, her voice husky as she uttered her words between gasps and moans. Phoebus gave a short laugh, concentrating on the world of pleasure rocking his body. He continued his rhythmic thrusting, passion escalated by the groans she uttered against his ear, her nails raking across his back. He felt her shudder against him, her body clenching around him, her nails digging deeper into the skin in his back as she climaxed.

Phoebus let out an guttural groan, a shiver coursing through him as he came, grasping her hips firmly as he rocked his hips against her. He rested his head against her shoulder; releasing his iron grip on her hips and placing her gently back onto the ground.

"Well, you have one serious sense of hospitality. Couldn't ask for a better welcome home," Phoebus grinned, getting a sarcastic eye roll in return.

"I needed that too," She replied, pulling up her skirt and fumbling with the threads,

"Allow me," He interjected, reaching and helping her finish dressing. It wasn't until after their interlude was ended that Esmeralda noticed how well toned his battle-warn body was. Marred with scars, she found him incredibly sexy, and pondered proposing another meeting. Once her own clothes were fashioned she returned the favor and helped Phoebus redress. She still had her hands fastening the belt of Phoebus's chest piece when the priest came bursting down the aisle,

"What abomination are you children doing!" The pair looked at him with startled guilty expressions, but Phoebus pushed her away and step forth,

"This nice young woman here was just helping me fix a loose belt on my armor," he smiled. Before the priest could protest, the great doors of Notre Dame swung open and Judge Frollo with several soliders in tow marched through the great cathedral.

"You!" Esmeralda hissed, suddenly infuriated at her own stupidity. Of course he had summoned the soldiers, he was their captain! She braced herself to strike him when he looked at her sternly,

"say Sanctuary…" She was about to yell, scream, curse,  _anything._  But he turned from her before she could retort, "She's claimed sanctuary. There's nothing I can do," Blood rushed to her head as the company of people began to argue.

"She is a criminal, arrest her at once!" Frollo protested,

"You will do no such thing! You off all people Judge Frollo, have learned to respect Notre Dame," The man looked taken aback, as if reminded of some great crime time had yet to erode from memory.

"Fine. You're safe for now dear. But gypsies don't do well behind stone walls," He smiled, his eyes lit with a lustful expression. He turned, signaling the soldiers to leave. Phoebus gave her one last apologetic expression, and followed the others out of the church.

"You can stay here as long as you need my child,"

"Didn't you know? Gypsies don't do well behind stone walls."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first go at a full blown lemon when I started this series back in 2012, so I hope it was up to par. I also hadn't seen this movie in a long time when I wrote this one. I know the dialogue is incorrect in that last scene, but nonetheless I hope it is acceptable.


	8. Sleeping Beauty, Rating: T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara Rose 29: Sleeping beauty. What if Aurora had listened to the fairies and not touched the spindle?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not seen this movie in many many years, so I apologize if this isn't my best what-if. Any serious continuity errors please point them out.
> 
> A note about the timing: Jumping between chracters is not always in one strait line, events may be occuring simutaneously so you will read one section, the next may be occuring during the same time period not necessarily immediately after.
> 
> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

 **ff.net user Sara Rose 29** : **Sleeping beauty. What if Aurora had listened to the fairies and not touched the spindle?**

 

* * *

The edges of her vision were clouded, her ears deaf to sound save a strange melody coming from the center of the room. Her legs moved her foreward, and a hadn reached out to touch the spindle with the music. Her body felt numb, and she moved without thought or intention. A voice touched her through her trance, a memory breaking through the spell. Her vision began to clear and the music dulled. Her eyes focused on the point of the spindle, such an innocuous object. Dull white wool thread was wound about the spindle, dust settling on the unused seat. Why would this spindle be unused? The kingdom was always in need of thread.  _Fear._  She wasn't sure why the strange emotion came to mind, but it was a deep and real as any other. She feared this object.  _But why?_

Her heart began to throb in her chest, her breath quickening. It seemed to be the nudge her body needed to snap fully out of the strange. The music stopped, and her vision returned.  _The spell, a curse. If I touch it…_  She stepped back, looking over her shoulder for the doorway. She had to escape, get out of here. She didn't recognize the room, or the connected hall.  _How did I get here?_  She broke into a run, hearing the music begin again. She covered her ears,

"No no no no..." but it grew louder, and she hesitated in her run. She felt her vision once again beginning to blur, and her ability to think was clouded.  _The music. It's the music._  "I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream," She began to sing, to give her ears other music to focus on. If she could fight the music, she could fight the trance. Already she was able to force herself to move back through the hall, down a staircase that was hidden behind the fireplace. She repeated her song, singing louder to drown out the powerful magic threatening to overtake her.

"You are stronger than I thought you were my dearest Aurora," She stopped, looking for the source of her voice. In her hesitation she stopped her song, and the music quickly returned.

" _That visions are seldom what they seem!"_  She sang louder, her heart racing faster throbbing in her ears. She looked around the room for the source of the voice, but it had seemed to come from all directions at once.

"You cannot resist me, sweetest Aurora, you will fulfil the curse,

" _But if I know you, I know what you'll do!"_  She continued her song, fearing what would happen should she stop. If she fulfilled the curse she would prick her finger upon the spindle, and fall into the deepest sleep.  _Where are you my fairy godmothers, I need you._ She wasn't sure how much longer she could fight the powerful magic. Even through her song the music was growing louder, the urge to turn back to the room swelling inside of her.  _Run. Run._  She tried to tell herself,

"You cannot fight it child. Give in, you will fall asleep. Simple sleep. No more fear, no pain, no worry. Peace, rest." Aurora shook her head, covering her ears and ran for the doorway, she had to find the three fairies. If anyone was powerful enough to fight this magic, it was them. They had taken away the stronger poison of her curse, rather than death it was slumber she faced. If they could take away the power of death, they could eradicate this trance.

* * *

"Something isn't right," Flora stopped, looking around her. She sensed a powerful magic, a power she hadn't sensed in sixteen years.

"What is it sister?" Fauna asked, looking to her sister and seeing the aprehension in her eyes.

"Oh it's probably just her dress isn't pink enough,"Merryweather replied. "I still say blue is better,"

"It's not that. Maleficent…" Flroa interjected, holding up her hand trying to resist starting another color-battle with her sister. "Aurora, where is Aurora?"

"I'll never get used to calling her that. Briar Rose was such a pretty name…" Fauna lamented

"Come on!" Fauna fled the room, trying to find the source of the magical force she was sensing.  _How can Maleficent get to her now? It is only hours before sundown, we destroyed every spindle in the .kingdom! They've spend years importing thread from faraway kindoms so a spindle would never be necessary. This can't be happening! We should have waited at the cabin for just one more day!_  She followed her intuition, hoping they would find Aurora in time. "Aurora!"

* * *

"You'll love me at once, like you did once upon a dream," The young woman continued to sing, looking fearfully at the tall figure before her. She almost looked familiar, a shadow from a childhood nightmare.

"Just give in, and sleep. You can dance with your love in a dram. You are a princess, you will never marry the boy from the woods. But if you sleep, you will be with him once again. I promise my dear. I am only looking out for you,"

"I dreamed we'd be together, in love forever," She refused to give up her song, she could fight the music as long as she continued to sing. If she could hold out until the fairies found her she would beat this.  _They will come to protect me, like they always have. They can't help but dote it's in their blood._

"You fight so hard, but you cannot win. Just give up, give in, and you will rest," Maleficent was growing impatient. It was close to sundown, there was less than an hour before her curse would be broken. How dare this petulant little child defy her magic? None in the kingdom were as powerful as she, not this pathetic little girl, not her pathetic fairies. She had managed to keep that hidden spindle a secret for sixteen long years, the kingdom had let its guard down and recalled it lost princess a day too soon, her curse would be fulfilled. None could defy her.  _Just give in you pathetic whelp_.

"Once upon a night, I was wishing for a never, a never ending,"

"A defiant one you are," She flicked her wrist, and the music swelled. Aurora covered her ears, tears brimming in her eyes . It felt as if the sound were a physical force crushing her beneath it. She sang louder, but the music was too loud it was drowning everything out. "Give in, give in, and sleep. See your beloved  _once upon a dream_ ," Maleficent laughed, watching as Aurora stood, her arms dropping by her sides. Her eyes dilated, the black nearly overtaking her iris. She turned, and began to head towards the source of a music only the girl could hear.

"Maleficent! You stop this vile magic at once!" Maleficent turned, hissing, seeing the three fairies who had defied the strength of her curse so long ago.

"I see time has not aged you well," She mocked. "I cannot sense the magic on you that I once did. You are too late," She laughed. Flora waved her wand, Merryweather and Fauna following suite. A glowing ball eminated from the tips of their wands and floated into the room, "Is that all you have, little balls of light?" She laughed, and the balls quickly collided to the floor and exploded into fine powder, filling the room with acrid pink blue and green smoke.

"Hurry!" The fairies flew through the room, bypassing the coughing Maleficent. The smoke burned their eyes, stung their airways.

"Oh, I've never used magic to hurt someone before," Fauna whined, looking at her wand questioningly. "We're  _good_  fairies…"

"Sometimes you have to do something evil, in order to serve the forces of goodness. We can lament about this later sisters, we must hurry to Aurora!" Flora replied as they hurred up the staircase behind the fire. The smoke was making its way up the staircase, making it difficult to see.

"All three of us may have been a bit much… the smoke is coming up the stairs. I can hardly see!"

"Then neither can Maleficent!" They heard a tortured scream come from the room below them,

"Hurry! She will come to make sure her curse is fulfilled!" The tumbled out of the upper doorway, colliding with eachother in their rush to protect the child they had raised.

"Briar Rose!" Fauna shouted, seeing the girl approaching a spindle. She hesitated, her fingers hovering over the tip of the spindle. She was singing, a temor in her voice, but it was still that same beautiful voice they had come to love.

"Fauna, go get the prince. I fear Maleficent's rage is not something we can face alone if we break her curse,"

"Right away!" The green fairy flew through the nearest window, taking deep gasping breaths for fresh air free of the smoke-filled environment. The two remaining fairies rushed to Aurora, grasping her arm,

"Aurora! Stop! It's us! You can fight this!"

" _I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream!"_

"Yes dear, yes! Keep singing! You can fight this!" Flora shouted, tears mounting on her eyelashes.

"Briar Rose! She responded better to the name Briar Rose!" Merryweather shouted, looking to her sister. "When Fauna called her Briar Rose she hesitated, we can break through whatever is happening to her,"

" _I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam,"_

"Fight it, fight Rose. You can do it!" They were holding back her arm, the girl's hand still trembling, slowly forming a fist, "Yes dearest! Yes! Fight!"

" _And I know it's true, that visions are seldom all they seem_ "

* * *

Fauna flew, faster than she knew she could. The muscles in her back that controlled her wings ached, screaming for releif. Wind bit at her face, small pellets of half-frozen rain beating against her skin as she soared through the clouds hoping to stay hidden should Maleficent give chase. Her dress was saturated, weighing her down making flying that much harder. She dipped below the clouds, searching for the castle of the neighboring kingdom. She could make out the structure, she had nearly missed it hiding in the clouds. She dived, squinting at the stinging wind and halted her fall shortly before the ground. She flew over the walls, no time to argue with the guards. She had been here before, when Aurora's parents wanted to arrange the engagement of Aurora to Prince Phillip. The window to the center keep was small, and high up to keep arrows from penetrating.

"Magesties!" She called out, surprised at the weakness in her own voice as she huffed for breath. "Magesties!" She collapsed onto the carpeting, gasping for breath as guards rushed to her.

"It's one of the good fairies!" A guard shouted.

"The Prince… I need… the Prince…"

"Summon Prince Phillip at once! And notify the king!"

"Yes sir!" Several guards vanished, the captain and one other soldier remaning behind with Fauna.

"What's happening? The King and Queen of –"

"They were safe last I left, but Princess Aurora…"

"The Princess has returned?"

"Yes, but she is in grave danger! Maleficent… she's trying to fulfil the curse! My sisters are with Aurora, but we can't stop Maleficent alone. We need help," The captain looked at her, but trusted the good fairy was telling the truth. The captain turned to the soldier,

"Notify the other captains at once, gather a force to return with the good fairy to assist our allies. Princess Aurora is Prince Phillip's betrothed and she requires our help! Get your men together at once! The Prince will provide further orders!"

"Yes sir!" The man vanished through the doorway, his footsteps echoing against the stone stair before once again settling into silence.

"Are you alright? You're absolutely soaked! Come, here, by the fire," He gestured to the roaring fire at the mantle, "Lucky for you the royal family likes to keep this room warm at all times,"

"Thank you," Fauna, smiled, fluttering to the fire. The warmth was a welcome releif, and she wondered if she had overreated when she decided to hide in the clouds. It wasn't a long wait before Prince Phillip followed closely by his father the King came running into the room.

"So he was saying true, one of the good fairies…" The King gasped.

"Prince Phillip!" Fauna shouted, getting to her feet at once, bowing her head. He held up his hand, gesturing for her to stop,

"The good fairies will never have to bow to us. But where are your sisters?"

"Back home, with Princess Aurora. Prince Phillip, I beg you, you must come to the kingdom at once. Maleficent… we thing we stopped her curse but we can't fight her alone. We need your help,"

"Meleficent…" The King whispered, obvious fear marring his features, "She cursed the young Princess with death,"

"Upon pricking her finger on a spindle before sundown on her sixteenth birthday. Flora was able to reduce the curse, to slumber. But we may have stopped the curse altogether," She looked out the window, the sky was dark the sun nearly fully behind the horizon. "They only have to hold out for a few more minutes. But we need help to fight Maleficent! We can't do it alone, even our power can't match hers alone,"

"We will do whatever we can to help our allies," The King replied, and turned to his son,

"Phillip, take what soldiers you can and hurry. Maleficent is powerful, do not underestimate her,"

"She's just one woman, how many men could I possibly need?"

"Don't be a fool boy! If you want to rule you have to understand the strength of your enemy. She may be one woman, but she is the most powerful being alive. Take all the men you can, and hurry! I don't know how long our allies can resist her alone,"

* * *

Flora and Merryweather looked out the window, the last sliver of sun was dipping below the horizon, they turned to Aurora, who was continuing to sing her voice horse, cheeks stained with tears. Her hands were balled into trembling fists as she continued to fight the magic that was threatening to overpower her.

"Just a few more moments love, you can do it!" Flora urged, her own muscles straining with the effort of helping Auorora hold her arm back. The trio continued to strain, groaning, crying, singing, fighting the powerful magic with all the effort they could muster. And all at once, Auorora collapsed.

"It's gone… the music… it's gone!" She cried, buring her face into her hands sobbing loudly, her shouders shuddering. "I did it… I did it…"

"Powerful little one," The trio turned, seeing Maleficent standing in the doorway, "But not strong enough!" She shouted, slamming the butt of her staff onto the floor and throwing her arms dramatically out to her sides. Thick smoke once again began to fill the room, blinding the trio of women sitting on the floor.

"More smoke…" Merryweather complained, as she helped Flora pull Aurora to the back wall of the room, as far from Maleficent as they could manage. The witch was obscured by the smoke, and a deep laugh began to echo through the stone. The tone grew deeper, and the stone under her feet began to groan.

"Oh no…" Flora looked up, seeing a glimpse of the nightmarish creature that was growing from the smoke. The laughter grew deeper, and the creature pressed against the walls of the room, the stone groaning with the strain before finally shattering, sending cracks through the stone floor before slowly giving way, "No!" Flora and Merryweather took to their wings as the stone floor gave way beneath them, having no chance to reach for Aurora before a great dragon reached it's head and grasped her in it's jaws, it's great black wings spreading, shattering what remained of the upper tower and taking to the sky, flying to the southern tower, the tallest in the castle.

"Aurora!"

"Briar Rose!" The fairies hovered in stunned silence, eyes blurred with tears,

"A dragon… she turned into a dragon…" Flora said,

"The Prince will be here soon! Maleficent won't win!"

"I don't understand what she's trying to achieve… she just  _took_  Auorora without any demands, or grand monologues, threats, or promises. What is she up to?"

"Maleficent doesn't need a reason to do anything, it's  _Maleficent_  when has that witch  _ever_  made sense?" Merryweather huffed, taking in a deep breathing and puffing out her chest, pounding her fist over her heart, "We'll stop her! Good  _always_  triumphs over evil!"

It had taken only a short time to get three troops of soldiers together, and within the hour Phillip was leading a squadron of thirty soldiers, the King had argued it was too few and Phillip had boasted it was too many. Most of their men were off fighting a war to the south, he couldn't leave his own kingdom unprotected. The ride to the Princess's kingdom was long, and he hoped he would arrive on time. But it was a few hours ride; if the good fairy told true, they may arrive too late. And a ride through the wilderness after dark was never a safe journey.

"We must hurry… I only hope we will not be too late," Fauna lamented, seated behind the Prince on his horse, still too exhausted to endure a grueling flight home. The gate was open, and Phillip wasted no time in urging his men onward, thanking the powers at be that the moon was full to provide them with enough light to navigate their journey.

They pushed their horses to their limits, the men with aching legs, bruised sacrum, chaffed thighs as they rushed to the aide of their allied kingdom. Phillip squinted at the distance, thinking he saw a dark sillhouette on the skyline as the castle came into sight.

"What is that?"

Aurora looked down in horror as Maleficent burned her home. Much of the village inside the castle gate was aflame, people fleeing in all directions but unable to find safety. The good fairies were nowhere to be found, and the smoke was beginning to choke her. The great dragon flew about the castle, casing green flam eto mark her path. Aurora fell to her knees, barely supporting herself with her hands, Malefecents words repeating in her mind,

"You should have taken my deal little one, you could have just gone to sleep. A simple, peaceful rest, where you could have been with your lover. But now I will show you the price of defiance. You will watch your home burn, your kingdom destroyed. You will go down in history as the last Princess." She had been abandoned atop this tower, forced to remain helpless as the dragon made true on her promise. She had been dropped atop the tallest tower, and used her flames to weld shut the access door. Aurora had tried to break the wooden door but the heat from the flames below quickly made the task impossible. She reflected back, wishing she had just pricked her finger. An eternal dream would have been bliss. But now she was forced to watch her world burn.

A sudden blast threw her to the side, and she whimpered painfully as she pat out the flames licking at her dress. The wooden access door had burst open as the flames below grew overwhelming. She turned, looking down from the tower for a way to jump, but it was a sheer drop. She was unsure if she had the skill to scale the stone wall.

"What?" She strained her red and irritated eyes to focus on the horizon, and thought she saw the blurry form of movement. It was too far away to make out, and she wondered if her allies had seen the smoke and come to the rescue of her kingdom. But all they would find here was destruction. If only she had a way to warn them of what they were walking in to. "Maybe that's where the good fairies went… for help," She bit again at her thumbnail, already short and bleeding.

Heat quickly stopped her thoughts and her doubts, she was faced with burning alive or risk the climb down. She looked down once more, and swallowed her fears. Her decision was made for her. She swung her legs over the warm stone, and she hoped the wall below had not been heated beyond touch by the fires. She clutched the end of the stone lip, struggling to find a foothold,

"I should have taken off my shoes…" She muttered, straining to hold her body weight with just her hands as she struggled to kick off her shoes, pushign her bare feet against the warm stone in the shallow grooves between the mortered stone. She slipped her foot down, then a hand. Slowly, carefully, she made her descent. But she had moved down but ten feet when the temperature of the stone became painful to touch. "No…" She groaned, struggling to put her foot down on the next hold, the stone beneath her hands growing hotter by the moment.

A blast caused a shudder through the tower, and Auorora's grip slipped, her scream lost with the sound of grumbling stone as the great tower began to collapse. She flailed her arms for anything to grab on to. She fell through the wood and straw roof of the great hall, and her world fell black as she descended into the burning building.

* * *

It didn't take long for the blurry dark silhouette on the horizon to clarify itself as smoke. His betrothed's kingdom was aflame, a great winged beast torching the city with green flame.

"What is that?" He shouted to his captain riding beside him.

"It looks like… a dragon, your grace."

"But, those are just stories!" Philip shouted incredulously to the man beside him, glancing over his shoulder. The same expression of fear was evident on their faces even in the dim light of the moon.

"I think it's not just a story anymore,"

"Well… finally, a challenge." He replied with a confidence he wasn't entirely sure he had. But he would not be known as a coward. He would save his allies from total destruction or he would die a hero. He reared his horse back, siding up beside one of his men,

"Wolfgang, I need you to go back to my father, I know you see what I see. Tell him what we're up against. We may need reinforcements,"

"Right away your grace,"

"Godspeed soldier,"

"You too," The man turned and rushed back to his native home, Phillip praying that reinfocements would arrive before this kingdom was completely destroyed, and the royal family lost. He throught about the Princess he was betrothed to, and tried to think of her as the motivation he needed to surpass his fears. But he had only met the royal family once, and the last he had seen of the Princess she was but an infant babe. His mind wandered to the peasant girl he had become enamoured with.  _I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream._  Even the memory of her silky voice could set his heart racing. He knew so little of her, he was so far from his own kingdom it was likely the burning kingdom was her home.

"I'll save you, like I did once upon a dream," He whispered, feeling only a breif glimmer of guilt that another woman was his motivation for saving his betrothed's kingdom. "And we will once again dance with eachother," He spurred his horse back to the head of his men, coming up beside his captain. "Stay brave captain, the men will rely on us for courage. If they see us succomb to fear, then so will they and the kingdom will be lost. We are their only hope," They rode in silence for the remainder of the approach, stopping but a mile from the gate. He held up his hand, signaling his men to stop.

"Dante, I want you to take your men to search for survivors and get them away from the city, there is a river two miles west take them there, tend to their injuries. If you find the royal family guard them with your lives! Stefan, you and your men with me! Becket, you and your archers are to aim at the dragon, drive them out the North gate where Stefan and I will be awaiting with our men! If you find survivors direct them to Dante's men or tell them to meet his men at the river! If you find the royal family your new mission is to protect them with your lives! Do you understand me men?" A loud corus of cheers and chants greeted his ears, bringing a smile to his face, "Make me proud men, return home heroes! Stefan with me, to the north gate where we will ambush the dragon after Becket's men have run it North." He moved north, praying that his ambush would work.

* * *

Dante led his men to the gate, looking at the burning bridge realizing the horses would never cross. He dismounted signaling his men to cross the bridge,

"Sir, this may be a trap!" He looked to a young man who was the source of doubt, "Why would the gate be down? Why didn't they lift it?" Dante pointed to the chains that are used to pull the gate up to protect the city and the castle. The metal had been heated to melting, the stone supports at the near side of the moat cracked from the sidden impact. Much of the wood was burned, the metal supports distorted from the heat.

"The chains were melted, and the gate fell. Stay clear of the metal, it will still be too hot to touch, and avoid the blackened wood!" Dante shouted, running ahead to show his men the path. Once inside the city Becket and his men were quick to follow, sharply turning East as Dante and his continued south. "Cliff, Blake, Walker, I want you to search these houses and shops. Take them to the river swe will regroup there! The rest of you, with me! To the keep! The citizens may have fled to the protection of the castle," They ran through the city center, weaving through the debris field until they reached the stair that would lead to the great hall.

"Sir, it appears that the tower has collapsed, we have to be careful if it took out the southern wall the structure will be unstable, the whole thing could collapse!"

"The more reason to search there for survivors! This is the main hall into the keep, through the tower you reach the entrance to the castle proper. Citizens may have fled there for protection, in this burning city where else could they possibly go?" Dante shouted to his men, "Show courage men, it is the only way we will be able to keep them calm if we find people in there," They ran up the stair, placing a hand against the wooden door, "It's not hot. This room may have been spared fire thus fire," The men pushed, groaning against the resistance,

"They must have put down the bar, to keep the dragon out!"

"Like a wooden beam could stop a dragon!"

"At least they are doing  _something_  to protect themselves, futile or not this is the sign of a brave people. They haven't given up! We will show them their hope is not in vein!" Dante snapped at his men, angered by their lack of faith. They strained against the doors for several momvents more before stopping, "We have to find another way," he panted, resting his hands on his knees as he faught for breath,

"We may be able to enter through the windows on the east side, a dragon can't fit through them so they might not have barricated it like the doors,"

"Maybe this is a sign that there are people inside, someone had to be in there for them to barricade the door," Jack, the man who had shown doubt at the gate was the one to offer this voice of hope. Their hope however, was quickly diminished as the fires on the eastern side stopped their progress.

"Try the western windows!" They ran again, praying that this last mode of entry was clear. Their prayers were answered. The fires had not yet reached the structures on the western side of the main hall. "Boost me up!" Dante commanded, and with the help of his men reached the window. He reached down, and pulled the remaining men one at a time through the window before dropping from the sill himself. Inside was filling with smoke, the room hazy and it was difficult to see through the acrid air. It was stiflingly hot, and the men began to cough almost immediately.

"Hello?" Jack shouted, straining to see through the hazy air. "We are here to help you, sent by King Hubert! You will be safe with us!" Quiet murmuring met their ears, and the men all exchanged looks and ran to the source of the sound. A women appeared through the haze, colliding with Dante,

"Oh thank the heavens!" She wept, buring her face into his chest, "You have to hurry, the Princess… she, she fell through the roof…"

"What? Show me." He commanded, and followed the woman. Several people were gathered around an unconcious woman, and looked up at Dante with frightened eyes, "Don't be afraid. We were sent by King Hubert to help you," He knelt beside the Princess, and looked at the young woman with dread, "Is she?"

"She's alive. But she hasn't woken up. We don't know what happened, she just came crashing through the roof," A woman explained. Dante looked her over, but he had no medical training he wasn't able to identify injury. "Men, you remember our mission. Use the wood and fabric in here to make a stretcher, get her out of here. And these citizens. Lead them all to the river. I'll continue searching for more survivors and we can meet up with the others,"

"But sir,"

"Do  _not_  defy orders soldier! Get these people out of here and protect the Princess  _with your life_  if necessary! Am I clear?" He boomed, and his men began to construct a stretcher and evacuate the citizens without argument. "I'll meet you at the river, there will be many others and I still have to find the King and Queen. Get these people to the river. Once there, Jack, I want you and William to guard them. The others, return to the kingdom. Continue to search for survivors,"

* * *

Becket led his team through the gates as ordered, and began to search for the dragon. He gripped his bow tight, his knucles white. His other hand clutching an arrow, ready to notch and fire at any moment. His men were close behind him, scanning the skies for the great beast. They could hear it's bellowing roar, but it was difficult to see anything in the night through the thick black smoke blanketing the sky above the city.

"It sounds close, be ready men. We have to drive it north, away from the city, save the city more harm so Dante can evacuate the survivors and Phillip can send this beast back to hell where it belongs!" His men cheered, raising their fists to the sky. Becket hoped that the noise would attract the beast. He was growing impatient, he was ready for his glorious battle. Dragons, creatures from stories, and he would be one of the men to bring it down. They would be written into history, fairy tales, songs and stories.

"There it is sir!" Henry, one of his most seasoned men, pointed to a hardly discernable shadow in the sky, "There! Heading to the southern towers! We have to turn it around!" An arrow flew into the sky before Henry had finished his words, quickly followed by a volloy from the entire squad. The beast roared, and the stream of green flames stopped abruptly,

"Ha! We hit it!"

"No premature celebration boys! Another volley! Loose at will!" The men fired another rain of arrows, another wail echoing through the darkness, "Back to the gait, it'll follow us! It wants to stop the volley!" Becket ordered, and the men paused their run to loose a third volley before making their way to the northern gate. The roar of the beast grew louder, and a burst of heat warned them how close the beast was. As the flames grew closer a agonized cry shook the men, but the heat at their backs prevented them from stopping. "Almost there men!" They ran. The roar of flames nearly drowning out his words, masking the sound of two more desperate screams. They turned the corner, seeing some of Dante's men leading a large group of people through the shattered gate, carrying a makeshift stretcher between them. "Run!" Becket warned, but before he had spoken the men had seen the source of their fear.

The dragon circled above them, laughing as it passed overhead enjoying the smell of fear and pain. It made the pain of the arrows stuck throughout her body worth it, just to hear them scream as she burned the flesh from their bones. Her eyes scanned for them, and saw them disappearing through the gait.  _You will never stop me. This kingdom will burn. The Princess is lost, the King and Queen are lost. Most of the people of this city are dead. That will teach them to defy Maleficent!_  She dove for the gate, crashing through the stone supports shattering the wall.

Nearly all the people had made it through the gait before the wall collapsed. At the sound of crumbling stone Dante's men turned to see nearly twenty of the survivors they were trying to rescue crushed beneath crumbling stone and burning wood as a collumn of green fire silenced the pained screams coming from the rubble.

"No!" Willaim shouted, starting to move towards the destruction but was pulled back by his squadmates,

"Stop you fool! Remember our orders! We can't help them now but we can help these people here! And the Princess!  _Protect her with your life_  remember? Now come on! Becket and Philip's teams will take care of that beast, we have our own job to do!" Jack hissed, taking control.

"I should be there, with the battle! I am a soldier!" William defied,

"And you will do as ordered! We will be needed to protect these people, and bring them to the river! The most important job isn't always the one full of blood and glory,"Jack replied, remember the first lession he was taught so many years ago as a page. William hesitated, and tuned to catch up to the fleeing men and citizens before him.

Becket ran towards where Phillip and his men were hiding in ambush, it seemed Phillip's plan was working. Many citizens had been successfully evacuated, despite the casualties under the crumbling wall. The dragon was following their arrow fire North, now all that was left for it to engage them in battle. If they could just bring it down, destroy the vile beast, the battle would be won. King Hubert would send reinforcements, they could use water from the moat to control fires at the gate, dig through the rubble, regain entry to the city and finish evacuations. Rescue the King and Queen. The day would be theirs.  _I will go down into song and glory_  was the last thought to pass through his mind before he was overtaken by green fire.

* * *

Phillip watched in horror as Becket was the last of his squadron to fall to green flame. He just prayed their death was painless and quick.  _I will avenge you and your men Becket, you fought and died bravely. I will see you did not die in vain._ He charged, his men screaming and charging behind him. The two archers with him show arrows overhead, one successfully striking the beast in the neck, abruptly stopping its flow of fire and its agonized roar had a distinct pained hoarseness to it.

"Good shot men! I think we seriously wounded it!" It was distracted, and Phillip hoped it would be enough for them to finish it off. He shifted his shield, and saw the beast rear its head. He ducked behind his shield, hardly having time to give the command to his men to shield up before the fire soared over them. Too late Phillip realized his archers didn't carry shields, and their screaming was mercifully brief.

The shield was quickly becoming too hot, the edges glowing red hot the pain in his arm growing increasingly intense as the relentless fire continued. Just as the thought he was going to drop his shield and be consumed by flame the beast stopped, once again crying in agony. Phillip dropped the glowing shield, and charged the dragon, brandishing his shield. It turned suddenly, swinging its tail. Phillip ducked, narrowly avoiding being hit but two more of his men were not so quick.  _I can't lose any more men._ He stood, quickly, trying to find a weakness. The arrow that seemed to be causing the beast such great pain caught his attention, it was stuck between two plates of the dragon's neck, which was a green to contrast it's black scales.  _Between the green plates, that is where it is weakest_  "Aim for under the plates men!" He charged, and swung his sword, burning it deep into the dragon's belly as it turned into his blade. It reared up, but Phillip stubbornly clung to his blade, groaning as the beast thrashed, throwing him through the air. He impacted the water of the moat with such force he briefly thought he hit the ground before unconsciousness took him.

* * *

"Your grace… your grace…" Phillip groaned, aware someone was calling his name. He opened his eyes, the sky above was a deep red. The sun was rising, the light turned red from the smoke and dust. "Your grace… can you hear me?"

"Yes… what…?"

"You did it sir! When you stabbed the dragon in its belly you weakened it, when it reared our men were able to bury our swors into its belly as well. It fell, and turned into a woman. She didn't survive her wounds. To think… that dragon… was a woman. She must have been the most powerful witch the world has ever seen,"

"Survivors…" Philip groaned, sitting up.

"Your father sent reinforcements. They were able to put the fires out at the collapsed gate and make way into the city, they are searching now. No sign of the King or Queen. It appears Dante's men made it to the river."

"Dante?"

"I sent a scout, he hasn't returned yet it's only been a few minutes,"

"Becket?"

"Lost… sir. It appears all his men were lost too. We found eight bodies outside the walls, we're hoping to find his last two men alive in the city,"

"Your men?"

"Only myself and Bernard survived, your grace," The man's tone was somber having to report such a high volume of casualties. Phillip rested his head in his hands, trying to come to terms with his losses. He slammed his fist into the ground,

"Damn it! I should have insisted on more men, if I set out with more… the others might have survived,"

"Your grace… you commanded wonderfully. No one outside of stories and songs has ever taken down a dragon. You took down a  _dragon_  your grace. There must have been at least a hundred people who escaped before the wall came down, the Princess one of them. You stopped the most powerful witch we have ever known, the one who tried to curse the princess with death," Before Phillip could rebuke three fairies came rushing to him,

"Your grace! You're alive! The entire kingdom is indebted to you!" Fauna shouted, throwing her short arms around the Prince's shoulders. "We will never be able to thank you. You stopped Maleficent…"

"Aurora! Is there any sign of Aurora!" Flora cried,

"Our little Briar Rose…" Merryweather echoed

"The river, two miles west. The men were instructed to take the survivors there. We believe the princess to be among them," Stefan explained, and the trio of faires exchanged glances and were quick to soar to the west, vanishing quickly into the smokey haze.

"My horse?"

"Unharmed your grace,"

"Help me onto him,"

"Your grace… you should rest.,"

"I need to make sure the Princess survived. And stop calling me your grace. We just killed a dragon together. If that doesn't earn you the right to call me  _Phillip_  then nothing will," the Prince replied, taking Stefan's extended hand.

"As you wish. Bernard! We are to escort the Prince to the river! He wishes to check on the Princess,"

"I just hope all of Dante's men made it out alive. I need to know at least one squadron didn't suffer near-total casualties," His two surviving men nodded, and began the short two mile ride to the river. Phillip wanted to run, but after how they had exhausted the horses on the ride from his home kingdom, he thought it better to maintain a casual pace. The dead men's horses were grazing the land untouched by flame around the castle, and he trusted them not to wander far.

The ride was short, and the aching men were thankful for this one mercy. Phillip smiled as they approached the river, what he saw was a welcome sight for a battle-weary heart. Children playing and splashing in the river, men and women alike tending to the wounded, and he saw seven men tending to a young blonde woman in a makeshift stretcher. He squinted, something about her seemed familiar.

"The Princess sir, she's alive!" But the words fell on deaf ears. Phillip dismounted from his horse, and quickly approached the men.

"Your grace!" They all stood quickly, save one who was tending to the woman's wounds. The good fairies were there by her side as well, and looked up to smile at the approaching Prince.

"Report,"

"The Princess-" The rest of the report failed to register, he knelt beside the young woman.  _I know her, I know her! This is the peasant girl! I danced with her once upon a dream…_  He reached out, brushing some of the soot from her cheek,"

"This is the princess?" He looked at the good fairies incredulously, and back down to the beautiful face he had fallen in love with. He brushed her cheek tenderly, and the touch caused her to stir. She moaned gently, "How can it be? She was a simple peasant girl? Could heaven be so merciful as to betroth me to the woman I love?" He gasped.

Aurora stirred, she thought someone was touching her cheek. There were many voices, familiar voices. The fairies, and a man. Someone she had danced with once upon a dream. But she doubted her senses. Her ears were ringing and her vision still blurred from smoke irriation. Her mouth, throat, and chest burned. _How much smoke did I breathe in?_  Then the pain began to register. Her entire right side was pure agony, her fingertips numb. She tried to open her eyes again, and saw a familiar face.  _Is my mind playing tricks? Did I hit my head?_ She could see the sky, a deep red with clouds of thin grey and black. She tried to remember what happened. She thought she remembered a spindle and a tower, a dragon and green fire consuming her home.

"A witch… a dragon, and green fire…" She moaned,

"Maleficent dear… the witch who cursed you. But she was stopped. Thanks to your fiance, the prince," She looked to whom the fairies were gesturing to and saw the blurred form of a familiar face to match a familiar voice.

"You? It can't be you…" She gasped, shifting to sit up but was pushed back down by a gentle hand,"

"And you. I believe I danced with you once upon a dream," He smiled, echoing her own thoughts. "But now is a time for rest, you are injured my Princess, Aurora,"

"Please… call me Briar Rose…" She smiled, and he returned it,

"Briar Rose… much prettier. I like it," He chuckled, and leaned down to kiss the lips of the love he had thought lost.

* * *

**Epilogue**

In the aftermath of the battle it was found nearly a two thirds of the citizens had lost their lives, having been trapped in the city after the wall collapsed most succumbed to the flames. The remaining survivors were found among the houses and shops of the western wing, where Dante had sent two of his men to scout and the survivors attributed those soldiers to their survival.

The King and Queen had sought shelter in their chambers with their strongest men, but the flames had overtaken much of the tower blocking their escape and they succumbed to the smoke. Much of the city was destroyed, but King Hubert had extended his hand to offer any relief support the kingdom needed.

Aurora, taking the name her fairy caretakers had given her, was crowned as Queen Briar Rose at her coronation, and took charge of leading her kingdom in this time of crises. Her time raised by the fairies away from the lavishes of palace life gave her a gentle and generous heart. She refused to eat unless her people had food for themselves, to bathe unless there was enough clean water for all to drink, to drink in lavish linens unless her people had shelter and a place of their own to rest. She was wed to Prince Phillip shortly after relief efforts began, to give the kingdom a King. Seeing how the people adored their Queen, Phillip gave most of the power of the kingdom to his bride, who went down into history as Queen Briar Rose, the Gentle. Her husband forever known as Phillip Dragon's Bane. Together, they lead the kingdom. Briar, named by the people for their beloved queen. She led them through the disaster into a time of prosperity. She slashed taxes, refusing to live a life of luxury at the cost of her people. Farmland expanded, and they had so much food and livestock. they were able to export goods to neighboring kingdoms, the entire region began to prosper.

Three sons were blessed to the couple, and one daughter. The understood the obligation for their children to have an heir, but they both agreed they would not betroth their children. They had known the pain of love, and nearly losing it, and never wanted to cause their children such pain. Briar held all the prosperity it needed, and Phillip and Briar Rose has no desire to collect more power. Their people were happy, they prospered. Poverty was unheard of, and even orphans were a rare sight.

Phillip stood beside Briar Rose on the restructured balcony that overlooked their kingdom, and he took her hand gently,

"Could you ever dream the kingdom could bounce back from disaster with such strength,"

"Never underestimate the people,"

"They just love their Queen. And I can see why," He smiled. His hair was peppered grey, and even Briar Rose was showing streaks of white through her blonde hair. He found it made her all the more beautiful. The wrinkles at her eyes showed how she smiled, every feature that showed her age only made him love her the more. "Will you join me in a dance,"

"Well, I did dance with you once upon a dream," She smiled, loving the feel of his hand around her waist, the other clasping her own hand.

"Reality is so much better than any dream, while I have you in my arms, I never have to rely on dreams"

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this, it was a blast to write! Sorry for the cheesy epilogue… but after 8,000 words I had to just cut things short at the river. This could have been an entire story on it's own.


	9. The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Rating: T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ff.net user Lapierredx01: What if Frollo had actually killed Quasimodo? What would he have done to Esmeralda?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now keep in mind this will be mostly surrounding Frollo's point of view, these are not my opinions of, well, anything. Just how I interpret his demented mind. This is not a comment on anything else, these are Frollo's opinions on everything, and his interpretation of religion.
> 
> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

**ff.net user Lapierredx01: What if Frollo had actually killed Quasimodo? What would he have done to Esmeralda?**

Now keep in mind this will be mostly surrounding Frollo's point of view, these are not my opinions of, well, anything. Just how I interpret his demented mind. This is not a comment on anything else, these are  _Frollo's_ opinions on everything, and his interpretation of religion.

* * *

Frollo stood in the courtyard, sweating under the heavy robes despite the winter chill, warmed by the heavy flames. The platform had been erected before Notre Dame herself, so she may bare witness to this cleansing, and so the citizens of Paris may take heed at what happens to those who succumb to evil. Thick black smoke rose to the reddened dusk sky, the bitter wind bringing the smell of burning wood, straw, and the acrid smell of charred flesh to his nose. He took no joy in knowing the pain suffered before death, but took great solace in knowing they were cleansed of the sins of this foul world and would be welcomed into a greater kingdom. While he shuddered at the thought of such a foul creature sullying the purity of Heaven, he knew it was not for him to place judgment upon the mortal.

He looked away from the curling flames, their growing strength stinging his eyes. He saw a well a few meters away, and recalled another night he cleansed the evil of this world. He had caught another one of  _them_  the nomadic sinful beasts who refused to settle like civilized folk. Who refused to honor the sabbath and pay homage to God. They lived such filthy sinful lives, eating what they wished, copulating without the sacrament of marriage, stole from the holy people of Paris. They were a disease trying to rot Paris from the inside. They were trying to flee the city, a pair of these animals. To spread their disease all across France. His soldiers were working far too hard across Europe to protect his beloved nation for those creatures to desecrate her with their vile ways. The guards had captured the man, but the woman dared to flee with a bundle in her arms.

His initial reaction had been wrong, looking back he wish it had merely been a bundle of stolen goods she fled with so desperately. She had tried to flee to Notre Dame herself, calling  _sanctuary_  as if she had any right to ask for such a sacred right. I took her bundle, but the animal stumbled back, her head spilling open on the cold stair. Judgement passed down from heaven for her heathen ways, her prayers for sanctuary were answered. I opened the bundle, wondering which precious items had been stolen to find something far worse than silver wrapped within. It was a grotesque monster, a malformed daemon spawned from hell itself. He wrinkled his nose, recalling how that  _gypsy_  had dared to try and demand sanctuary for her daemon. I had to deliver the wretched creature from this world, cast it back to whence it came. I had to burn the creature that spawned it, whose tainted blood was staining the holy stair of Notre Dame.

"How dare these animals spread their evil and their filth throughout this city," He muttered, looking around for a solution to his plight. He wanted to cast this daemon from his arms before it woke. He saw a well, from which the priests and bishops, and other servants of God drew their water. He carried the bundle, looking down into the murky depths. The creature squirmed, giving a soft coo. He hesitated, for but a moment, and released his grip.

That foul day was nearly twenty years ago, on a bitter stormy winter day such as this. He had been fighting hard to purse Paris of this plague that haunted her. Just earlier this day he had been forced to suffer their foul hedonistic festiival, appropriately named ' _The Festival of Fools'_  they were fools indeed. They thought they could mock him, display their evil sinful lifestyle and try to lure other Parisians to succumb to temptation. That's when  _she_ appeared.

A siren, using lust to woo the crowd. Dressed as a common harlot the woman flaunted her body in ways none but her husband should see. But her fellow animals never followed marriage as a proper sacrament. They would have some foolish man called them 'married' but they would refuse to kneel before the cross and vow before God to dedicate their lives to this holy sacrament. She danced, he was forced to endure. But she had to push her limits, she had to mock him, throwing her scarf at him. It was lavishly colored, a symbol of her vanity. Her mockery a side of pride. Her dancing a display of her lust. Throwing the scarf at the authority she hated an open display of her Wrath. Her enjoyment of attention from the crowd, especially the men, a sign of her Gluttony. How she signaled for gold coins in payment of her dance proving her Greed. This is how she earned her keep, but refused to work for the city of Paris, prefered to continue her lifestyle, only working when the need for food arose. Sloth.

The cardinal sins, crimes he could not ignore. He ordered her arrested, for he knew what he had to do. She had tried to elude capture, and had manged to hide behind the doors of Notre Dame for a short time. But in less than a week she was forced to flee, and had fallen into the hands of his guards. She had believed him impatient enough to give up chase after several days, but with his prey cornered he would never give up. A holy man never shied away from God's work. So he had the platform erected, on that first night. So she could see her fate, accept it, and do penance.

She had faught her captors, tried to use the same tricks to escape but a simple gypsy bitch could not match the strength of four armed honorable Parisian Christian men. He didn't want to risk her escaping prison, and demanded she be tied to the stake immediately. The whole of the city had seen her display. She was bound, a man sent to light a torch, another to cry for the city to come witness the event.

The crowd formed quickly, always eager to watch the purification of evil. It soothed his troubled heart. For as he looked into the crowd he knew that for every beast he cast from this world there were a hundred good God fearing holy men and women in his city. The bishop of Notre Dame had tried to fight against this purification, and Frollo had his guards lock the man inside the cathedral. He would worry about the supposed holy servant of God turning his back on the word of God after, he wanted to focus on this woman first.

He turned away from the well, pulled from his musing. The fire was large, and the screaming had stopped. Every few moments the wind blew the flames, a part displaying the body of the creature beneath. No longer a sinful heathen. She had been purified. Frollo took a deep breath, the smoke choking him, filling him with a sense of accomplishment. He had done God's work this day, but there were many more creatures left to purge from this world.

* * *

 


	10. The Lion King, Rating, T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ff.net user Crest39: what if Nala was caught by Scar when she was leaving to find help(so she never found Simba)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

**ff.net user Crest39: what if Nala was caught by Scar when she was leaving to find help(so she never found Simba)**

 

* * *

Nala lapped greedily at the small muddy stream, the gritty water tasting like mother's milk. She had been traveling for nearly ten days in a desperate search to find help. There had been no prey, and little water. It had been nearly three days since she had last found any, and she drank until she felt ill. She collapsed in an exhausted heap next to the stream, panting as sticky foamy saliva gathered at the corners of her jaws. She wasn't sure when she fell asleep, but it was dark when she opened her eyes.  _Must be more careful. Scavengers may have found me._ She chided, standing back up. She drank at the stream until her belly felt full, temporarily dulling the pangs of hunger. She looked around her, searching for any signs of life. She heard the buzzing of flies, distant laughter of hyenas, but no signs of prey or a rouge male. She had been searching for one, hoping to guide one back to the pride. If she could bring back a stronger male, Scar would be cast out and perhaps the pride could move onward with the herds.

Unlike her pridemates, Nala was not superstitious. She knew Scar had no control over the rains, and did not control the migration of the herds. What he did control was his hubris. It was his stubbornness and his ego that prevented him from admitting Pride Rock was lost, the land was dying, and they would have to move on from their ancestral homeland. If they had simply followed the migrations they would not be facing the crisis they were facing now. Perhaps it was too late, and they would never catch up to the migrating herds in time to escape starvation. If she didn't find something soon, she herself would perish. She would need to find food if she were to survive the long journey home. But she would only make the journey in the company of a new male.

She smelled the air, turning her ears to see if there was any sound in the direction of the scent. She heard a faint rustling, and crouched low. Her eyes, now adjusted to the dark, saw the slightest shadow of movement against the dusty savannah. She moved slow, forcing herself to show restraint. The smell of prey stung, the pangs of hunger nearly unbearable at the thought of a prospective meal. She shifted, slow, watching the shadow. She feared it would see her eyes and she hugged the ground, closing her eyes trying to use her ears and her nose. She took a few more careful steps, opening her eyes and continued towards the small shadow until she felt she was close enough and pushed her exhausted body in a sprint, slamming her paws into the dust and her jaws captured something small, warm, and furry.

She bit down, and warm blood filled her mouth. The furry thing stopped movement and she put it down and began to tear into her meager meal. It was small, but would suffice her for at least another day. The meat was stringy, and there was little fat on the creature, but the organs would provide her with the energy she needed to carry on. The scent of blood was maddening, and despite the meal in her stomach she was only more aware of her driving hunger. She knew these small furry animals never lived alone, and hoped for more. Surely they would be hiding from predators, especially if one of their own had been hunted. She stalked away to once again lay in wait of a meal, waiting patiently.

She rolled her ears as she heard sound once again, but it was much louder than the tunneling rodents she was hunting. She hugged the dirt, sourcing the sound. The sound was behind her, and she slowly turned, trying desperately to keep her movements silent. There was no chance of wildebeest, but perhaps a straying animal from the jungle. The thought of new and exotic meat agitated her further, saliva once again gathering in her mouth. With a fresh large kill she would have the strength to widen her search much further, into the jungle itself. She had heard of rogue lions in the thick of the trees. She was sure the lure of a pride as large as her own would coax any male into following her. She was due to go into heat, and a meal would ensure it. Scar had yet to impregnate any of the females of the pride, and there were no cubs at home to worry over. She saw the source of the sound, and prepared to leap,

She collided into a large body, and she suddenly came to her senses. The scent was not that of new prey, but something much more familiar. A deep growl rolled in her throat, and was met with a load roar,

"Treacherous snake!" The voice hissed, and a paw impacted the side of her face.

" _Taka_ " Nala snapped back, looking up at her King standing over her before scrambling back to her feet.

"Insolent fool! I am  _King_  you will never call me that!" He roared, lunging at her. His movements were clumsy, and she was able to dodge him easily. While he must have kept a straiter path, she knew Scar must be as hungry as herself. But she was a trained hunter.

"Mufasa was right to name you  _Taka_  he knew what you were!" She replied, taunting him. She held no respect for this tawny beast, weak and thin with hunger. "So prideful you follow one lone female, leaving everyone starving and leaderless," She saw his body language shift, and shifted her own to prepare for the lunge. She rolled to the side, kicking at him with her back paws feeling the jarring impact as her claws tore into the skin on the side of his neck, "I know what you did!" She roared, gathering herself and leapt at him while he staggered, "I know the stampede was no accident! You killed Mufasa! You killed Simba! You killed my best friend, my future mate!" She bared her teeth, biting for his neck but her teeth instead met the thick meat of his shoulder, blood staining her muzzle as he struggled under her, his skin tearing as he rolled away from her sending tufts of fur into the air. He limped away from her, and the pair of lions began to stalk around each other. The scents of noises drew another animal, the exhausted pair looking at the newcomer with apprehension.

"Who are you!" Scar demanded, standing tall despite the injury to his shoulder, puffing out his chest, his fur standing strait to enlarge his dark mane. The newcomer emitted a low growl, and Nala was able to see him as he approached. He was another lion, and appeared to be well fed. Scar repeated his question and was again given a growl in response.  _A rogue... a rogue!_  Nala thought, trying not to let her excitement get the best of her.

The male looked at her, and Nala knew her own hubris was of no matter, and despite Scar's presence she rolled onto her side, flashing the pale fur of her belly to the new male. The male looked at her, and turned to Scar, watching him as he approached the submissive female. Scar lunged, but the rogue male was quick to respond. He stood and met Scar's lunge bearing teeth. Loud growls and roars broke the quiet night, and Nala quickly retreated to a safe distance, watching the battling males with trepidation.  
"Who are you to intrude on  _my territory!"_ Scar roared, backing from the other male, pacing around him, tensing for another strike,

"You are in  _my_  territory, this is Baridi's land."

"A lone male under someone else? Pathetic." Scar snarled, and lunged again at the intruder. "I am a King!" The male met the lunge, striking at Scar's wounded shoulder.  
" _I_  am Baridi!" He clarified, "And I to am King! King of this jungle!"

"A king of trees and rocks, sticks and stones," Scar mocked, lifting his paw as he spoke in a sing-songy tune. "I am King of a pride, ruler of  _everything the light touches_ "

"How dare you speak his words!" Nala roared, her fur standing strait, flicking her tail impatiently as her ears pressed against her head. "You are no king, you are  _Taka!"_

"I told you never to call me that!" Scar turned from his combatant and lunged again at Nala, his movements quick and clumsy. She was able to easily side-step him, and sunk her teeth into his wounded shoulder, gripping tightly and he tried to roll away from her, but she held on and caused him to roll on top of her. She lifted her hind legs, kicking at him with her claws and smelled the fresh blood of new sounds on his flanks. Scar twisted, pulling out of her grip but was helpless beneath him as he bared his teeth at her, and lunged for her neck. She felt suddenly dizzy as air failed to draw into her chest. She kicked, feeling her claws rake against him but his grip tightened. She flailed,  _I can't lose to him. Not to Taka._

Baridi leapt at the distracted male, sinking his own teeth into is scruff. Scar roared in pain and surprise, his grip on the injured female lost. Baridi dragged him away from Nala, who clumsily staggered to her feet and collapsed several steps away. Baridi dropped him, placing both paws onto his neck,

"So, you are the famous  _Taka_ , brother to Mufasa. Some say you became King after your brother was killed in a stampede, his son killed by hyenas. Others tell me you threw your brother from a cliff. Others told me you ate your brother. Others still say the hyenas rule your pride, and you are nothing but their tool," Scar trembled beneath the larger male, feeling vulnerable on his back. But the mention of his birth name enraged him, and he roared, kicking and swiping at Baridi desperate to prove he was not  _Taka._ He was  _Scar_  ruler of pride rock, the cub who defeated a boar before he had his mane. He was not  _taka_. His attacks were futile, and his agonized roars stopped suddenly as Baridi sank his teeth into his neck, keeping his tight grip until the smaller male ceased his thrashing.

Nala looked anxiously at the pair of males, panting hard with pain and exhaustion. She knew she was bleeding, but the wounds were small. If kept clean she could recover, Scar had meant to strangle her slowly, and had failed to sink his teeth deep enough to make her bleed out. Baridi met her eyes, and she was quick to break contact, lifting her paws to again show him her belly. He approached, circling around her before sniffing her hindquarters.

"Who are you?" He asked, his voice broken with his own exhausted pants,

"Nala," she replied simply. "I've come to find help, for a strong male to lead my pride," she explained, looking at Scar's corpse. Already the buzzing of flies was growing, and overhead she saw vultures circling their next meal. Baridi studied her for a moment, but accepted her act of submission. Nala stood, and allowed Baradi to rub his cheeks against her, marking her with his scent.

She signaled to the west, and told the male about Pride Rock. He agreed to help her, but asked her to follow him into the jungle to hunt, to fill their bellies for the long walk to Pride Rock. The jungle proved bountiful, and they were able to eat their fill. She contemplated simply staying in the jungle, and starting a new pride with Baradi. He was young, and very strong. He would prove a worthy leader. But the thought of abandoning the others back at Pride Rock was unforgivable. Together they traveled, and along the way Nala submitted to his mating advances. The thought of raising her own cubs brought a joy and enthusiasm for the future she never thought she would feel again. Along the way she told him about her pridemates, and about Pride Rock itself. He told her stories of his travels as a rogue male, and how he stumbled upon the jungle.

At home, the others welcome Baradi, and celebrated the news of Scar's defeat. With news of the bounty the jungle held, they were quick to follow their new King, and accept Nala as their new Queen. The pride followed the dominant pair, traveling across the long savannah abandoning Pride Rock. Nala took one last look behind her, as the tip of her childhood home vanished onto the horizon and welcomed their new future.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this one might be my worst what-if. I hope you liked it anyway. I mostly hate the last paragraphs. Like, really hate it. But it's been too long since I wrote a what-if and wanted to get one posted. I hope you liked it...
> 
> Oh and staying true to Lion King, Baradi is Swahili for "Cold" not a comment on his personality just liked the way it sounded.
> 
> For those who don't know per Disney canon Scar's actual name is Taka, Swahili for "garbage" I think it was a series of comics?


	11. Beauty and the Beast, Rating: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yo MaMa: What if Belle never had feelings for the beast ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

**Yo MaMa: What if Belle never had feelings for the beast ?**

Belle sat on her bed, running her thumb along the sides of the mirror in her hand. She longed for her friend Beast, or  _Adam_  as the castle had informed her after his passing. Little Town mourned Gaston, nearly worshiping him as a hero for giving his life to destroy the Beast of the Castle. The chapel was full with nearly every member of the village, save herself and her father. Her father had been locked in the institution, but she had been allowed her freedom. The village deemed she only defended the beast because he held her captive, and she let them think their hateful lies.

She was heartbroken, and blamed herself for his death. Missus Potts had informed her of Adam's curse, and what it took to break it. They had all held such hope for her, put her on a pedestal, and she let them down. She had cared for Adam deeply, but she could not call it love. She felt love took longer to develop. Given more time, she was sure she may have one day broken his curse, their curse. Now they were doomed to their cursed bodies trapped in the enchanted castle for the remainder of their lives. Because of her. The others had welcomed her to stay at the castle, but she couldn't bear the guilt. She had tried at first, staying in her old room. Missus Potts was kind enough to her, but she saw the change in the others. They didn't talk to her as much, and even the library failed to be the sanctuary it once was.

While Little Village held their memorial service to mark the one-year since Gaston's death, she felt the pain of Adam's death as if it were new, and the aching loneliness of the house without her father.

"Please, show my my father," she asked the mirror. It swirled, and her father's image came to shape. He appeared well, he was clean shaven and in clean clothes. She had been unsuccessful in demanding his release, but had been successful in at least significantly improving his accommodations. She visited him several days a week, but this was one day she couldn't bear to see him. She felt to blame for his imprisonment.

She had come to hate Little Town; after what they did. Her quiet village had proved it was not the peaceful place it once was. That its people were not the cheerful loving folk she grew up with. She had seen them at their worst, and was no longer capable of believing them at their best. She placed the mirror down and went to gather her cloak hanging by the door. Little Village had allowed her to keep her home, and she worked odd jobs around the village to maintain a meager income. She had saved everything she could, and scraped together just enough money to purchase a wagon. At the foot of her bed were most of her possessions, They consisted of a pathetically small amount of clothing, a brush for her hair, and an armful of books. She had stashed some bread, cheese, salt fish, dried meats, and a variety of vegetation in the ice box and a new block of ice to keep everything cold until she was ready. She slipped through the door and walked toward the stables. Phillip was grazing in his fenced pasture, and trotted excitedly to her,

"Hey boy, what do you say we go for a ride?" She asked, and his excited stomping showed his enthusiastic response. She laughed gently, and after giving him a brush and cleaning his hooves placed his saddle and leaped onto his back. She directed him to the woods, and guided him to the path that led to the castle. She led him in a gentle trot, and slowed to a walk as the castle came into view. She followed the northern road, keeping the castle to her right. She soon saw the iron fence, and led Phillip up to the gate. She dismounted, dying his lead to an iron post.

"I'll try not to be long," she said to the steed, and entered the small cemetery. She walked slowly, finding the stone she was looking for in the back row. It stood out from the rest, breaking the organized symmetry, the large plot standing out on its own. The carving on the stone was just a simple  _Adam_  no family name, no dates. It looked misplaced, but it fit him better that way. She knelt before the stone, feeling the tears mounting on her eyelashes.

"I'm sorry Beast," she whispered, using the name she knew him as. "This year went by fast," she paused, bringing the back of her hand across her eyes. "I doubt you want to hear from me. I miss you," she tried to smile, and shifted into a sitting position. "My father is doing well, all things considered. Phillip is as stubborn as always," she paused, wondering why she was making small talk with a stone. She was unsure if she believed in a heaven or a hell, but she knew there were things beyond her understanding. "I wish I could have broken your curse... maybe you'd still be alive. You'd be human. Everyone would be. They'd all be happy. I just wasn't this big hero everyone wanted me to be. I'm still plain old Belle, plain girl from Little Town," She hugged her knees, and sat in silence for a long while. She looked up at the dark gothic castle, wondering what it looked like in it's glory days. What it looked like before the curse. Roses surrounded the cemetery and she frowned at them, feeling that the flowers were mockign her. The flower that marked his curse now followed him into death. "It's not fair," she sighed, breaking her long silence,

"Life's never fair dear," a familiar voice echoed from behind her. Belle turned, startled, and looked at Missus Potts sitting on her cart.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll leave," Belle moved to stand, but Missus Potts moved her cart closer,  
"None of that now," she scolded. "We never made you leave dear. I know the others made it hard, but we miss you dearie, you should visit us once in a while," Belle shook her head, and began to sob,

"But it's all my fault. It's my fault Gaston came here, my fault he killed Beast. It's my fault the curse was never broken..."

"I said none of that now!" Missus Potts did a little hop in place, and gave the impression of a woman stomping her foot, "It is  _not_  your fault the curse wasn't broken. And it was only a matter of time until the people of Little Town came here."

"All he needed was someone to love him," Belle sighed, "Bit I-"

"No one can force love dearie. We never should have put that pressure on you. Love happens when it happens. You can't force it. If you force it, it isn't true love," Her voice was as soothing as her tea, and Belle was able to calm her sobs.

"I miss him. How was it not love? How can it hurt this much?" She questioned, wondering if she could convince herself it was love everything would be fixed. That she could at least cure her friends, fix the castle, even if it was too late for Beast.

"I miss him too dearie, we all do. There's many kinds of love, I loved Adam. Stubborn fool that he was. I'm sure you did love him, in a way. But we can't choose who we love, you can't force it."

"You're stuck like this because of me," Belle replied, "everyone is. Everyone is stuck as a pot, or a candlestick, a clock, a broom. No real body because of  _me._ "

"You didn't curse us dear. You weren't a witch who didn't care who got trapped in her spell when punishing one young man. You weren't a spoiled prince who turned away an old woman in the cold simply because she was ugly."

"But it's my fault they knew about Beast. If I hadn't shown them with the mirror-"  
"You did it to save your father, no one can blame you for that," Missus Potts nodded side-to-side,

"Yet they locked him up anyway," Belle sighed, trying to keep herself calm. The guilt was feeling as fresh as it did a year ago, when she helped the others dig the massive grave for Beast, with no priest to say words. When she went home to find her father locked up despite her proving he  _wasn't_ crazy. To return to the castle to find everyone treating her as coldly as Little Town.

"Come inside dear, have some tea, some hot food. The others understand none of this was your fault," Belle shook her head, and stood up, dusting off her dress.

"No. I don't belong here. I don't belong in Little Town. I've always wanted to see more. I think it's time I did. If I leave Little Town they'll let me take my father with me, we'll find a new place. There's too many memories here," Missus Potts tried to argue, but Belle shook her head again. "Thank you for everything Missus Potts. You've always been so nice to me. But I don't belong here." She turned, walking away from the protesting woman to where she left Phillip. She rubbed his nose as he nickered at her. "Come on boy, let's go see father."

 


	12. Hercules, Rating: M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guest: What if Hades had raised Hercules himself brainwashing him and made him his personal weapon instead of trying kill him when was a child and made him mortal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because of the way I'm moving this story from ff.net sometimes formatting gives me headaches. So I apologize for odd formatting in places.
> 
> So normally I don't pick a recent request as I try to keep up with my backlog, but this one immediately starting putting words and pictures in my head so I wanted to get them written down while they are still there. Kind of what happened with the Sleeping Beauty one, I fell in love with writing the one-shot. This one immediately broke my writer's block. So I apologize to all of you who have submitted requests that I have not gotten to yet. I do plan to go back and fish through older requests to find the next subject, this one just intrigued me. This one, like others I have done, could make their own entire fanfic series.
> 
> So I am pretty damn tispsy writing the first half of this... Please tell me if the wording of this is up to snuff or not. Rereading this I can't tell if me writing tipsy is bad, neutral, or (I doubt it) good. Being a one-shot certain ideas have to be explained rather than explored over a period of time. But tis the nature of a one shot. I hope you enjoy this guest. And if you are one of my regulars I would actually quite like to know who submitted this question. So some people may feel out of character. Keep in mind most of them their ENTIRE HISTORY is changed. Hercules was raised different, Hades's opinion of Hercules and his domination are different, Megara's experience in Tartarus would be different. I took a little creative licence. I hope you are satisfied with the drunken result.
> 
> Also, this is one is long. I had fun. Next to the Sleeping Beauty one, most fun I've had so far!

 

 **ff.net Guest:** What if Hades had raised Hercules himself brainwashing him and made him his personal weapon instead of trying kill him when was a child and made him mortal.

* * *

Hercules looked up at the ceiling, too anxious to sleep. His entire life had been leading up to this day, and it was but hours away. Before the next sunrise Olympus would fall. All of the pompous Gods cast out, and the glory of Tartarus and Hades restored. He knew this battle was against his natural parents, but Hades had rescued him from such a fate and raised him as his own. He had rescued him as a babe, and brought him to Tartarus where he wouldn't have to suffer a life atop Olympus in its current state. To be raised as an arrogant fool who believes he runs the Cosmos by birthright. He feared to think the man he would have become if raised in such an environment. To prove his gratitude he would follow his given task and ensure Hades's victory over Zeus.

 _Zeus_. The arrogant God who had murdered the Titans to prove his ugly glory, who took his own sister as his wife. Who ruled over Olympus and Earth as if he deserved such fanfare. The mortals worshiped him, bowed to him, sacrificed their livestock to him. Women slaved at his temples, men died in battle in his name, children trained to either become a warrior or bear more warriors to further the glory of Zeus. But soon the senseless worship would end. They would see Zeus for the old weak fool that he was, and see what true leadership was. His gaze shifted to the warm body of the woman sleeping in his arms, her groggy moans bringing him from his reverie.

She was Hades's most recent fury, a fellow denizen of Tartarus for shy of three years. And she was his betrothed. The young woman had sold her sold to Hades to spare the life of her lover, only to have the man desert her. He admired the sacrifice, such selfless behavior was so rare among the mortals. The man who had betrayed her was a truer display of mortal behavior. It was for such behavior he knew Olympus must be overthrown. To worship a God who was the very embodiment of selfishness only made these foolish humans more apt to behave as thus. With Hades as their new God, they would no longer see selfishness as the path to greatness. Hard work, ambition, sacrifice, honesty. These were the tenants they would bestow upon humanity. And the woman in his arms was the very embodiment of sacrifice.

Hades had promised that upon the completion of their marriage vows Megara would be granted immortality. He would not grant her the power of a God, but she had expressed great disdain for such power. With her at his side, he knew that she would provide a better model for the mortals. Even without the powers of a God. They would know of her extreme sacrifice, and learn that that is what the Gods will reward. Zeus had done naught to protect her when she willingly sold herself to what she believed was a malignant entity. She was willing to endure an eternity of suffering to spare the man's life.

Looking back he thought it almost laughable that they would end up together. If you had asked the day of her arrival if he thought they would be as bonded as they were now he would have laughed. When she descended into Tartarus on her first night, she expressed nothing but hatred for himself, and his father Hades. But beneath her boiling anger, he could see her intense fear. Which was perplexing, as she was the bravest mortal he had ever encountered. She would complete any task, face any foe, endure any pain that Hades demanded. But still he sensed an underlying fear, sadness, and self-loathing. Such a brave heartless soul did not deserve such foul tributes to rule her heart.

Hercules recalled how he told his father he would tend to the girl, as she seemed ill taken to Pain and Panic. She even rejected the presence of Persephone for a length. She rejected him too, but he would never forget the night that marked the turning point in their relationship. He had come to bring her the evening meal, and placed it on her table as custom. He had turned to leave when she called his name,

_"Hercules," he stopped, and turned towards her "Why don't you join me tonight?"_ _He smiled at her request and nodded,_

_"I'd be happy to,_ _be back in a flash!" He went to the chamber that served as a kitchen to gather his own meal. It was no different than the meal he had served the fury. He had told Hades the young woman deserved no less than they did, and his father reluctantly agreed. He carried his plate, as well as a jug of watered wine spiced with cloves, back to the fury chamber. He found her sitting before the fire in her usual place. He sat down before her, "Are you cold?"_

_"I just feel comfortable near the fire," she replied. She was idly pushing some beans around with a chunk of flat bread. "I never thanked you for helping me with Nessus today," Hades had sent them to try and convince the River Guardian to join their side for the upcoming battle. He was difficult to convince. He had tried to make a deal, insisting on using Megara to slake his lust in exchange for his cooperation. Instead Hercules broke his nose and two kneecaps, but agreed not to break the other two in exchange for his cooperation. The uprising was months away, time enough for his bones to heal. Upon return to Tartarus Hercules had insisted it was Megara who had accomplished the mission, and Hades had rewarded her handsomely._

_"Just doing my job," He tried to defend,_

_"Still. Thank you. So, what brought you here to this... lovely place," She crinkled her nose and Hercules frowned at her obvious discomfort._

_"This is my home..." his voice trailed, shoving a bean-soaked wad of bread into his mouth to stifle any uncouth statements that might follow before his brain could filter them._

_"Oh. Sorry." Her apology felt more startled than authentic, "sorry. I just... this isn't home to me." He was surprised to see her acting so candid. She always put up a show, trying to pretend she was okay._

_"What can I do to make you more comfortable?" He was saddened that the provisions weren't satisfactory. He wanted to see her happy. Someone like her deserved to have her every desire met. She laughed at his question, and his frown deepened. "I mean it," She looked up at him, and their eye met for a few seconds before she broke contact._

_"It's not that simple. This isn't my home. It's... different. You can give me all the warmest linen, nicest chitons, delicious food, glorious wine... but it doesn't make this home. I'm a slave. No amount of padding will change that. I'm told to do something I do it. Doesn't matter what I think," She stopped playing with her food and took a large bite, to silence herself. She had stolen a small carafe of wine, unwatered,_ _and its intoxicating effects were dulling the parts of her that kept her silence. But rather than hate herself for it, she was finding talking to him strangely soothing._

By the end of the evening they both became heavily intoxicated. Megara had welcomed him into her bed, and it was the most intense evening Hercules had ever experienced. He wasn't entirely innocent. He had been with women before, but none he had strong feelings for. In the morning Hercules was expecting her to feel ashamed, and return to her self-isolation. But instead, she continued to open up to him. And as the months passed, he did to her as well. They grew close, and he loved her far more than he thought possible.

It was for this reason Hercules took his task to heart. Hades told him of the prophecy the Fates had foretold. ' _If Hercules should fight, you will fail."_  the words were vague, and it was hard to discern the true meaning. For this reason, Hades had tasked him with guarding Tartarus while he led the Titans to Olympus. Hercules had initially been angry with this task, but then Hades pointed out defending Tartarus also meant defending its every denizen. From the Fates, to the Erinyes, to the souls, to Charon. And most importantly, his fury Megara.

She stirred again, mumbling incoherently against his chest. He smiled at her, and admired the curves of her body in the dim firelight. The casting shadows left enough of her hidden that he wished there were candles for him to light. He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, causing her to hum gently and he smiled. He hoped he would make her, and his father, proud on this day.

He sighed, wishing he could join his father against Olympus. He had trained him, honing his strength, sharpening his intellect, showing him the true power of his senses. He was a warrior. He wanted to show his strength. Even if no one would remember his name, he wanted the glory of battle. But the fates... they predicted failure should he fight. This is why Hades tasked him with defense. He just hoped the arrogant Gods would be foolish enough to stumble into his domain with the unfortunate thought that they could defeat him. Or worse, show him his 'true' family and try to convince him to turn on Tartarus and join Olympus. But nothing would make him betray his father. Zeus may have sired him, but Hades rescued him from a life of arrogance, had raised him, had shown him his true potential.

"Ah! Already awake!" Hades' voice boomed, little more than a shadow in the doorway. "Is my warrior ready?" He clapped his hands, rubbing them together. The commotion woke Megara from her sleep, and she managed to keep herself from sitting up to source all the noise, maintaining her dignity considering her discarded garments were halfway across the chamber. Hercules was already on his feet, reading scrolls containing epic poems about war. His heart began to race at hearing his fathers voice, and was ready for all his training to come to fruition.

"Of course, father!" Hades smiled, the lines tugging his eyes genuine. When he had first abducted the obnoxious infant he had seen little more than a potential weapon. But had grown very fond of the ball of noise and body fluids. The helpless little blob had grown quickly into a very capable child, bold teenager, and finally a warrior. He considered him as much his son as he would any child he hoped to sire with Persephone.

"Today we finally do it! We kick Zeus's high and mighty ass outta' Olympus!"

"We'll show them that arrogance doesn't make you a God!" Hercules cheered. Meg shifted uncomfortably, their war-talk sounding oddly cultist. But she knew how long Hercules had trained for this day, how much it meant to him. She would stand beside him to matter what. She owed him that much. Hades approached, placing his hands on the young man's shoulders.

"I want more than anything to take you with me," His voice was uncharacteristically steady, holding no tones of sarcasm or hyperactive wit. "But I can't risk everything on how vague the Fates were. Seriously... verse... you think they'd catch on with the times, eh? Nope. Gotta rhyme. Must be cryptic. Not a prophecy if it ain't cryptic," He waved his wrist in small circles, rolling his eyes, "but just because it makes to sense to me... or, well,  _anyone_ , doesn't mean I can risk it all. But! I can give you charge of Tartarus, you can do it," Hercules returned his father's gesture, placing his own calloused hands on the taller man's shoulders.

"I won't let you down," He promised. The two men embraced, Hades patting his son firmly on the back.

"No way you could! I'd cook you alive! Ah, I kid I kid. I trained you too damn good to fail. Now, time to kick some ass! Off to gain some real estate, give these stupid mortals a show, huh? I wonder if those fools on Olympus even know what a fight is," He was confident in his fight. Nessus would guarantee Haphestus was cut off from the purest waters of Greece, thus leaving great flaws in his smithing. The Titans would bring a chaos unto Olympus that Zeus himself couldn't stop. Nothing could make this plan fail. Hades shifted his eyes to his fury, "You keep him safe. Understand?" Megara nodded at her boss, feeling an odd stirring within herself. She was actually getting excited for this. The Gods had never given her reason to hope, so she had no reason to hope Olympus would triumph over Tartarus. She turned to Hercules, allowing a smile to tug at the corners of her eyes,

"I'd give my life for him,"

"That's a good little fury!" Hades chimed. Despite the mockery of the words, for once she felt like he wasn't mocking her. "All right! Time to see of this real estate investment has paid off! Got a whole  _cosmos_ out there waiting for me!" Hercules watched his father depart, and wanted desperately to chase after him. He wanted to give an epic speech to rival those of Spartan generals. Wanted to inspire fear in his enemies, hope in his father, love and lust in his betrothal's heart. He wanted Tartarus to remain safe, so Megara would remain safe. But he wanted the glory and blood of battle. He wanted the Gods to make the mistake of wandering into his territory. Wanted them to feel the shame of defeat. To have, for the first time, their unquestioned glory shattered. Their shame public.

"Someone's excited," Megara chimed, and Hercules turned to her. She had a coy smile, her shoulders rolled back to exaggerate her bust, demurely hidden behind a thin sheet. He returned her smile, and walked over to the edge of the bed. "What do you say we burn off some of that energy, so you can...  _focus_  a little better?" She winked, her words quickly silenced as his lips clashed against hers.

She felt her heartbeat quicken, the sound of it throbbing in her ears as a wave of dizziness washed over her. She moaned eagerly against his mouth, her tongue meeting his with passionate urgency. He cast aside the sheet, breaking the kiss to bring his lips to her neck. His teeth bore down gently on her skin, his tongue tasting the salty sweat on her neck feeling her moan reverberating in her throat. He slid a hand between her legs, and found she was already slick with arousal.

"I'm not the only one who's excited," He said through a grin, meeting her eyes. Normally he would want to take it slow, tease her, draw it out. He loved making it last, until she was all but begging for him. But his own desires, intensified by the thrill of upcoming back, overtook him. His hips met hers, and thrust into her with animalistic lust. She moaned, moving her hips to match his thrusting. He held himself up with his hands, watching her passion-filled face. She lifted her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. He burned his face into her neck, kissing her again. She smelled of soil and trees, of sweat and passion. It was maddening. Soon her moans became more high-pitched, and he felt her legs writhing against the sheets and knew she was close.

"Don't... don't stop..." she panted, her nails raking across his back. He loved how her voice sounded, deep and breathy. His own moans began to match hers, feeling his climax building. He closed his eyes, wanting to focus on the intensity of it all. This incredible pleasure, the smell of her, the sound of her impassioned voice, the feel of her warm body writhing beneath his. She lifted her legs around his, clenching him as she quivered with her climax, her moans tapering into breathy whispers. He was not far behind her, and collapsed spent and exhausted beside her. They lay there together, panting for breath for several moments.

Despite the desire to lay there beside her, Hercules rolled from the bed to prepare for battle. He walked over to the wardrobe that he used for his armory, wondering which to choose. He had garments and armors from every part of Greece, old and new. He needed something practical, yet intimidating. He wanted to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies, but needed it to provide adequate protection.

"I like the Spartan armor. They certainly know their stuff," Meg suggested, chucking a little as she watched him fiddle through his various armors. She was lying on her side, supporting her self up on one arm. He looked back at her, momentarily admiring her curves in the firelight, and turned back to his wardrobe to hide the red staining his cheeks. Per her recommendation, he pulled out the Spartan garb. His set was older, but he agreed with her choice. It would provide adequate protection, and the garb was intimidating.

While he dressed Meg slid from the bed and gathered her discarded clothing, pulling on the cream chiton. It came from her back and over her shoulders, before two swaths of fabric met near her waist, where a sash tied them together. It was a very open garment, which worked well on the days she had to venture out in the summer heat. It reached halfway down her calves, keeping her legs cool. Her bare feet made a soft padding sound as she approached Hercules, who was fumbling with the straps to his armor.

"Here," She pulled the straps from him and helped him adjust the leather patches that provided an extra layer of protection under the metal chest piece. He wore a wool tunic under the leather fastenings, to keep his skin from chaffing on the edges of his armor. The tunic came down to just above his knees, but leather boots provided much of the protection below his knees. The wool had been dyed red, 'so my enemies can't see me bleed' a line she recognized from an old joke. "Give me the wrist bands," she commented, pointing to the leather and metal cuffs. They protected his lower arms during close-combat, especially considered in his right hand his weapon of choice was a double-edged sword. The cuffs protected him from how own weapon. "Sheild?" she asked, before fastening the metal to his left wrist.

"Two swords today," Meg grimaced at his response, and applied the leather cuff, but set the metal one aside to allow his wrist to better fit in the loop of his shield.

"You were tasked with defense. Use your shield. You've trained with it enough to use it as an effective weapon," She shot back,

"Okay fine" he recognized her tone, and knew arguing to use two swords would only end with her angry, and him sacrificing defense in the sake of offense. Her recommendation was correct. His shield would serve him better than a second sword. Were he with his father to obliterate Olympus his dual-wield would sit with him better. He watched her eyes shift from him, to his helmet, and back to him. "Don't worry I'll wear the helmet!" He shouted, louder than he intended.

"Like you did with Nessus? Or the Athenian rebels? Or those eleven self-righteous soldiers who thought they could take the souls of their entire squad back from Hades? Or-"

"I know I know. I don't wear it enough. I promise to wear it today," He pulled it down from the wall, tucking it under his arm. "But you need to wear your armor as well," he insisted. He had commissioned a set of leather armor be made for her after she sustained serious injuries on a job for Hades. She had been sent to try and seduce a trio of brothers to fight for Hades, and had returned to Tartarus with deep wounds on her sides, and bruises on her thighs that she refused to explain. The trio of brothers were unidentifiable when Hercules was done with them. After the incident he insisted she wear a set of leather armor on the job. While she appreciated the gift, she rarely heeded his request.

In addition to the armor he had also gifted her with a belt that held a supply of throwing daggers, as well as two small swords. After her encounter with the brothers he had trained her in these weapons, insisting that she know how to defend herself. She was tall, and fast, but Hercules still felt safer teaching her how to use a ranged weapon, and only using the swords once she was out of options. He had shown her how to use a bow as well, but she was far less apt at it than with the throwing knives. Nonetheless, he armed her with a shortbow and a quiver of arrows. She felt the precautions were excessive.

"Fine," She replied. Hercules walked with her back to her chamber, and helped her with the leather vest, boots, and bracers. She found the wool to restricting beneath the leather, preferring a linen garment. It had been made in a male fashion, meant for practicality with armor rather than feminine appeal. He then helped her arm herself with the weapons he had custom forged for her, "I look like a man," she complained,

"A very sexy man," Hercules replied. "Would make any spartan man blush to have you in his legion!" He gave her a rough pat on the back, nearly causing her to stumble. "Come on, I bet my father and Persephone are in the throne room. Most defensible place in Tartarus.

"Lead the way, Oh Mighty Hercules, Prince of Tartarus!" She mocked, puffing out her chest. He laughed, grasping her hand and pulling her along. They walked through the cold damp hallways, Meg feeling his anxiety with how tight he was gripping her hand. The throne room was a large skull-shaped structure. The cliff was deceptive, one would think the eyes led to the chamber but a few steps into them and you would fall into a deep precipice into the River Lethe, and forever lose your memory. If you could survive the swim to the nearest shore, you would wander Tartarus forever lost until you collapsed from exhaustion and joined the other lost souls of the Lethe. Charon ferried them to the entrance, and as Hercules expected Hades and Persephone were both waiting in the throne room.

"Ah! There he is!" Hades announced, clapping his hands. "Okay, here's the scoop. Me, Olympus, awesome. You, here, awesome. Persephone, sexy, always. Meg," Hades paused, tilting her head, "looks surprisingly good as a cross-dresser,"

"Hades!" Persephone protested, crossing her arms, pouting her bottom lip.

"Oh come on! Just look at her! You gotta admit... oh... nevermind," he pinched his nose. Persephone's jealousy could almost rival that of Hera. "Anyways. Prince of the Underworld, cross-dressing fury, super-sexy queen of hell. Roll call complete! Now that the class is all here, what'd'ya say we all have somethin' nice. Good ole' meal together. Eh? Family Sunday dinner? Don't need to fight on an empty stomach," He was swinging his fingers in the air and snapped, large platters of food appearing on the table. Meg felt lost at half the words, and shrugged it off. The smell of the newly materialized meal was making her mouth water. A confusing host wouldn't make the meal any less delicious.

The group gathered at the stone table, filling their plates with various foods from the spread. There was laughter, stories, and a sense of peace. Meg wished this sense of familiarity was the norm, that each day could be like this. Ever since the death of her mother she had yet to feel the warmth of a 'family meal'. But soon reality set in. With full bellies, and hearts lusting for battle Hades and Hercules regaled each other by repeating the mantra of the year. They went over, again, their plan. Ensuring every detail was perfect. Confident that he could leave to await the release of the titans he gave Hercules a final embrace, and turned to Meg once more, to make her repeat her promise to protect Hercules. She repeated it. With Hades departed, the quiet became unsettling. Hercules paced the chamber anxiously, and Persephone appeared bored at her seat on the throne.

"Why did you choose to be with us, instead of your mother?" Meg asked, hoping not to accidentally enrage the woman. She knew little of the Goddess, save for the mythology of her marriage to Hades. She was unsure how much of it was true, from what little she did understand about Persephone she doubted that the marriage was entirely against her will.

"Why are you sitting here with us instead of hiding above ground where you would surely be safer?" She replied.  _Damnit, do all Gods answer in questions, rhetorics, and riddles?_  She thought sourly. Meg gave a tilt of her head in response, and found Hercules looking back at her,

"That's a good question. Why don't you let me bring you above ground, you'll be safer there," Hercules asked, ceasing his pacing.

"You remember the stories of  _before_ the Titans were defeated? You really think topside is safer? Besides. Hades would more than kill me if I were up there and you got so much as a scratch. I'm not going anywhere," she replied, crossing her arms and sitting back down at the stone table. "Plus I'd look pretty out of place up there armed to the teeth. They'd probably call me something nonsensical and try to drown me. Or worse, bring me to my father," she scoffed. Hades, being a God, was well aware of who she was and had passed on this knowledge to Hercules.

Time felt as if it was crawling, the calm of the throne room stretching until Hercules let his guard down and sat down at the table with Megara. She could sense his agitation, he wanted battle and was growing tenser by the minute. She was beginning to grow skeptical of the peace herself. The situation quickly changed,

A quick flash of light startled the trio, and a flaming arrow collided into the wall close enough to Persephone to cause her to shout. Before Meg realized where the arrow had come from Hercules was on his feet, shouting at her to get back with Persephone. He stood before them, shield raised, sword ready.

A second flaming arrow quickly followed the first, followed by three more, and second set of three that flew with poor accuracy.  _Three. There are three of time._ Hercules thought to himself. Poor start, he was hoping for more. But this was merely the opening act. He searched the darkness for the source of the arrows, but he could see nothing from the shadows. He quinted, gripping his sword tighter, when he saw a flicker to his left, a quick glimmer flashing across the stone expanse followed by a nearly inaudible 'whud' and series of cursing. Hercules threw a quick glance over his shoulder at Meg,

"Really?"

"Don't act so surprised.  _You_  trained me afterall. Now pay attention before you get your pretty face hit with an arrow," He gave her a quick smile and turned back to one of the eyes of the skull structure where he had seen the glimmer vanish into.

"Why over there? I thought you couldn't get in here from there..."

"You clearly haven't played enough hookie. How do you think I got out of here so often? Just takes a little more agility,"

"Yeah, but you  _know_  this place. Those eyes are a deathtrap. If you go in there unaware..."

"Anyone who tries to get in here unaware is an idiot. You don't wander into Tartarus and expect everything to be as it seems,"

"But..." He paused, quickly lifting his shield to block an arrow, another glimmer of light flashing to his right this time ending in the sound of metal meeting stone,

"Damnit!" Meg cursed.

"Not as good as you thought, eh?"

"You hush before you find one of these wedged into your perfectly sculpted ass Wonderboy," Their banter was interrupted by another volley of arrows, this time the pattern varied.  _Five? No way three could land a volley like that_  Hercules thought to himself, but his question was soon answered by four figures bursting through the eye of the structure. Four men, led by a woman, and Hercules quickly recognized their leader.  _That's how they knew about the eye!_ _Eunike,_  She was a former fury, who had finished her service to Hades. He had no time to warn Meg about who she was, as he rushed at the attackers.  _Now this is m ore like it!_

Meg threw another dagger with her targets now rushing at them. A fifth man appeared in the rear with an obvious limp, blood flowing down his leg. He had made the mistake of removing the throwing knife she had successfully lodged into his upper thigh, blood flowing freely from his leg. She aimed for the woman who was leading the charge, but Hercules bashed her with his shield knocking her to the ground causing her throw to miss. She cursed under her breath again. She was down to three daggers. Hercules ran past the downed woman who was struggling to her feet, and charged at a tall man who was only a few steps behind her.

Hercules lifted his shield to meet his first blow, swinging the sword low, aiming for his legs. But the man was quick, stepped back recovering quickly from the shield block. He watched his leader run past him, charging at the two women in the back of the room. He swung his sword at Hercules, trying to occupy the Prince of Tartarus to keep him from attacking her. He bellowed, cheering on the charging woman. Hercules knocked him back, slamming the butt of his sword into his shoulder causing him to stagger, followed with a blow from his shield that shattered the man's face in a spray of blood and teeth. He fell to the ground. Dead or unconcious, Hercules had no time to assess as he nearly failed to block a blow from a second attacker, and felt a sudden sharp hot pain as an arrow buried its head into the meat of this thigh.

Hercules ducked, lifting his sheild to strike the second man below his chin with his shield. He heard the sound of the impact against his head before the pain registered from the woman bringing her own shield down against his head. A third man ran past him, but the woman and the second man had him too occupied,

"Meg!" He shouted, but she was already aware of his presence. She lifted her sword, but was knocked back by his opening blow. She rolled to her side, leaping to her feet and sweeping two steps left, swinging the blade at the back of his legs but he was too quick. He parried her and she nearly lost her grip on the blade. He impacted her in the center of the chest with the butt of his sword, knocking her down again.

"Pathetic," He spat on her, letting down his guard. She took advantage of his underestimation and swept her arm, gripping a dagger and releasing it with one swift movement. The man tried to block, startled, but missed and her blade stuck into the forearm of his sword hand causing him to reflexively drop it. Meg took advantage of her momentary opening and rose to her feet, lifting her shortsword and prepared to strike when she felt a sudden hot impact in her right side. She gasped, her sword clattering to the ground as her hand grasped at her side, feeling the long wood shaft of an arrow. She heard laughter, and it sounded distant. She shook her head to try and regain her senses,

"Pathetic," the man repeated. He too, had torn the throwing knife from his arm, holding his sword clumsily with his left arm as his right dripped blood onto the ground "Shame to kill one so pretty. You'd look good beneath me in bed," he chided. "Maybe I should let you live," Meg struggled to regain the breath knocked from her with the impact of the arrow. She staggered back to her feet, holding her own sword in her left hand. She was horribly outmatched. She glanced past her attacker and saw Hercules had slaughtered the second man, and was standing before the one she had wounded in the leg.

"You're the pathetic one. Out of the Prince of Tartarus, The Queen of the Underworld, you pick the skinny mortal woman. Worried you'd be outmatched?" she taunted. She leapt back to dodge his fist, and felt bile rise in her throat threatening to make her vomit as the pain in her side momentarily overwhelmed her.  _I'm still breathing. Couldn't have hit anything fatal._ She tried to reassure herself. She knew how terrible she was with the sword, but he wouldn't fall for a close-combat dagger throw a second time.  
"Hades made my beloved Eunike suffer. I will make Hades suffer. I will kill his fury."

"I really don't understand your logic," she shook her head. "That tiny amount of blood loss must be getting to your head. You must be even weaker than I originally thought! Poor thing. Why don't you go sit down. I'm sure when she wakes up Eunike can finish this fight for you"

"Shut up! You mouthy whore!" She tried to dodge, but his sword was too long and she felt the tip tear through the leather of her armor and slash the skin just below her breasts. She staggered, but managed to stay on her feet. She tried to think of more insults but she was beginning to grow dizzy with the effort of standing. She looked up and grinned, her tactic had worked.

Hercules swung his blade, taking off the man's head with a single blow. The corpse fell, blood pouring from the stump of his neck. Meg shifted back, trying to scurry away from the blood. She looked up at her hero,

"I guess this is the part where I thank you? But I had that. I was good," She lied, nodding sarcastically, tapping her hand against the top of her chest. "The others?" she saw him open his mouth to speak and cut off his question with her own.

"Eunike is unconcious. I have questions for her. Three are dead, the fourth is over there bleeding to death. I want to give you the glory of his death. Seriously, that was a  _good_  shot with that dagger," Meg looked over his shoulder to see the ruined mess of the second man. Hercules had severed his arm, and the large pool of blood pooling beneath him evidence that he had been skewered.

"I had a good teacher,"

"You're still talking, that's a good sign." Hercules replied, gingerly touching her wounds. He slaughtered the other men with ruthless abandon, and she found it so bizarre that he could be capable of such tenderness so soon after showing how violent he could be.

"Yeah. I think the cut on my chest is shallow, doesn't feel deep. Just get this arrow out of me," The arrow had entered her side, and had failed to pierce her completely. Hercules felt the lump on her back, identifying the tip of the arrow. She winced beneath his touch, taking in a sharp breath, "Take your time. Doesn't hurt,"

"Clearly..." He trailed off, and looked around for Persephone. "Persephone?" He called out, hoping the Goddess was safe. She peered out from her hiding place behind the throne. "Don't scare me like that! Father would skin me alive!" The Goddess pouted at him, and then her eyes fell upon Meg and she felt suddenly ashamed for hiding.

"Oh. Megara..." She bit her thumbnail, and came to join the other two. "I didn't know,"

"First off, never use my full name. Ever. Second, I'm glad you hid. Hades would skin us  _both_  alive if you had so much as a scratch. Better me than you," She tried to hide her resentment. Vowed to protect her or not, she found it rather offensive the immortal Goddess would hide while the mortal fought alongside the warrior-God.

"Meg, you are  _not_  gonna like me in just a moment," Meg's gaze shifted, and she eyed him skeptically.

"Elaborate?"

"The arrow is almost all the way through, hit you at a shallow angle. Missed your lungs. It's why you aren't dead,"

"I'm not dead? But... then why am I here in the Underworld?" Hercules chucked, glad she maintained her sarcastic wit. He would be more worried if she would take this seriously.

"It would do less damage to push the arrow all the way through, break the tip, then remove the shaft,"

"And what makes you think that?" She shifted away from him, less than enthralled at the idea of having the arrow pushed all the way through. Hercules gestured to his bleeding thigh,

"Pulled one out of my leg. Cruel arrows... the tips have notches facing back so they tear you apart when you pull it out. I need to find out who forges those. Might commission him." Meg grimaced,

"The infallable Hercules, wounded?" He placed a hadn to the back of his head, drawing back to find blood on his fingertips,

"This'll teach me to be sexist. Seriously. Women proving they can be warriors too,"

"Yeah. Brilliant warrior am I. Arrow in my chest, my insides nearly made my outsides, having to be rescued by my night in dented armor," She quipped. Hercules gave her a stern look, a bit saddened that even after showing how strong she was she would still be so self depreciating.

"You killed a man hiding in the dark with a single throwing knife-"

"I'm not dead yet! I'll kill you! You little whore I'll kill you!" A quiet voice chimed.

"You fended off a man nearly twice your size, took an arrow like a man, a slash to the chest like a man, and still managed to stay on your feet," Hercules continued, ignoring the bleeding intruder. "I know men who would have fallen, or at the very least be wining about his wounds a whole lot more,"

"Speaking of," Persephone interrupted, her tone indicating her dwindling patience, "Get that arrow out of her, get her bandaged up. If that was just the first wave I shudder to think what will be next." She flicked her arms, and at the eyes of the structure large rose bushes began to grow. Thick tentrils bearing long spines grew, and startingly beautiful roses bloomed on the bushes. "That should bottleneck anyone to the entrance we took, or at the very least make any attempt to get in that way very noticable." Meg and Hercules looked at her incredulously,

"And why didn't we make a wall of thorns in the first place? Also, put one at the other entrance!" Meg gaped, shaking her head. She gasped, clutching her wounded side. "Also yeah. Get this arrow out of me. Now."

"Because, like Hercules, I didn't know that was an entrance!" Meg sighed, shaking her head.

"Also, don't block the entrance. I want to meet any more enemies head-on,"

"I'm surrounded by crazy..."

"Okay okay. I need some supplies to bandage this up. Persephone, can you grow any good flowers to make sure this doesn't fester? Also I need some wine, linen thread, a needle, and lots of wool or linen cloth," The Goddess gathered the supplies after much complaining. Upon her return Hercules instructed Persephone to hold Meg still. He wanted to offer her wine to dull her senses, but he feared that would leave her even more helpless.

` "Ready?" Hercules asked,

"Oh yeah, completely." She replied sarcastically. Hercules gripped the shaft of the arrow with one hand, holding her skin taught with the other. Persephone was holding the young woman's arms by her sides. With one quick thrust he forced the arrow through. Her sudden scream sent chills through him, and left his ears ringing. The scream tapered off into a long string of curses. Persephone pulled back, covering her ears from the scream, causing Hercules to mutter under his breath. Meg used her now free arm to punch him, and immediately whimpered, "That was dumb..." she muttered.

"Okay, ready for the next part? Worst part is over,"

"Over? Dear Gods does it hurt," She leaned forward, resting her head against his chest. She was taking shorter breaths, her injuries beginning to wear her out. Tears built up on her eyes, and Hercules could feel her beginning to tremble.

"You're gonna be alright," He promised, kissing the top of her head. While was resting her head against him he reached around her, and broke the head off the arrow. The motion brought more curses and whimpers, and another loud shout when he pulled the shaft of the arrow out. Blood quickly began to flow from the two wounds. "I can't stitch this yet. You might bleed to much inside where the arrow was," She nodded her head against his chest. He unfastened her leather vest, sliding it off of her carefully, and used one of her own daggers to cut larger holes in the linen tunic so he could better see the wounds. He reached for the wine-soaked linen straps, pressing them against her "Persephone, hold these," The Goddess wrinkled her nose at the thought of touching the linens soaked in wine, and risk touching all the blood. Hercules saw her hesitation and bit his lip to try and reign in his temper, " _Please_ " She reluctantly came over, and helped press the clothes against the wounds.

The pain made Meg want to scream again, the alcohol making the wounds burn even worse than when the arrow was still in her. It was beginning to exhaust her, dizziness and nausea joining the calamity in her body. Hercules instructed her to lay down. She felt the awkward bulge of one of the cloths on the wound in her back, tears flashing to her eyes at the pain. Hercules unfastened the leather vest, opening it so he could access the wound beneath.

The sword has torn clean through the leather and the linen tunic Meg wore underneath. The blood stain told him the wound was shallow, and may not need stitching afterall. He cut the linen to see, and his hopeful conclusion was correct. He grabbed the wool linens for the wound on her chest. He sat her up again, and used the longer strips to wrap around her, holding all the bandages in place. He fastened her leather vest tightly, hoping to use it as additional pressure.

"You okay?" he asked, steadying her with a firm hand on her shoulder. She hummed in response, nodding her head.

"I'll be better once I can go to bed."

"Hey the good news is I don't have to sew the large wound. It'll heal well enough as long as we keep it clean," He assured her. Truth was he feared for her. The wounds themselves would not prove fatal, but risk of them festering would. Originally he had wanted their wedding to be a large, loud, romantic affair. Now he considered taking their vows in private, to grant her her immortality that was promised.

Megara sat against a back wall, having been carried by Hercules. It was as far from any of the entrances as he could get her. He had gathered her used throwing knives, returning the blood stained objects to her to refill her arsenal. Persephone sat with her, suppressing her desire to hide. She admired her bravery, and would be sure to tell Hades to reward her justly.

The rose bushes proved a worthy wall, forcing subsequent attackers to use the only unblocked entrance. The first immortal to come to test his mettle against Hercules was Prometheus. The man bore two flaming swords, in a mockery of his own crime. His chest and abdomen was covered in thick unforgiving scar tissue, pulling on him tight enough he had a slouch. Like the others, Hercules slayed him. Following him were mortals, taunted by Zeus with glory. Minor Gods seeking a higher place beside Zeus. Only the women, sent to offer their bodies to slake his lust in exchange for surrender were allowed to leave Tartarus unharmed.  _Further proof of Zeus's arrogance._  By the end of the night the room stank of metallic blood. Hercules had pushed the bodies into the river Lethe, to keep the smell of rotten flesh from overwhelming them.

Meg lay where Hercules had left her, Persephone beside her. Her dress was stained with blood, her fists bruised, her arms bearing minor cuts. Despite the way she presented herself, she had proven to be a capable warrior and defended Meg from any intruders who managed to make it past Hercules. He too, had not walked away from the battle unscathed. His face was bruised, one eye swollen shut. Two teeth had been knocked out, his nose was broken and bleeding. A dislocated shoulder hung useless at his side. He was covered with enough lacerations it was hard to discern the blood of his enemies from that of his own. But he was victorious.

Hercules was sitting against the wall with Meg on his lap. Persephone had helped him, with much instruction, to relocating his arm. He wanted to return to their bedroom and sleep for half an eternity. But until Hades returned with news of victory there was risk of more battle. His betrothed was shifting uncomfortably, the odd moan and whimper breaking her otherwise wordless silence. Persephone sat beside them, exhausted herself. Already many of her wounds were beginning to heal. They had ceased bleeding, and many bruises green at the edges. The pain was ebbing to little more than aches. Hercules too was feeling the advantage of his immortal blood. The pain was ebbing, but he knew the deeper throbbing aches would take much longer to end. He looked down at Meg, and found it unfair that her pain was no better, and would take significantly longer.

Hades returned before midnight to announce his victory. Olympus had fallen. There was cheering, laughter, and drinking from the small group. Charon, the Fates, and the Erinyes had also joined the throne room to hear Hades's announcement of victory. The lesser denizens departed quickly, for their jobs were never ending. Hades expressed his unending pride in Hercules, embracing the man, patting his back hard. He never would have thought the disgusting oozing noisy infant he had abducted would eventually grow to be his son, the defender of Tartarus.  
"I'm so proud of you," he reiterated, and Hercules had tears in his eyes. He turned then, helping Meg to her feet. She rested most of her weight against him, straining against the pulling pain to stand strait.  
"So am I," Meg smiled,  
"And you," Hades stated, his eyes traveling over her. She had clearly participated in the fight. The blood on the sword having from her side, and on the throwing daggers at her hip was evidence of that. She hadn't simply allowed herself to be attacked. "You weren't kidding when you said you were willin to die for him, huh? Not sarcastic for once!" He laughed. "Okay okay. I guess I need to do a little somethin' for ya. Don't get used to it," He swirled his hand producing a phial, which he handed to Hercules. "This will help the pain. Should help her sleep better too, which will get those wounds healed. Also, I guarantee they won't fester." The thought of something to remove this pain almost made Meg weep with joy,  
"Thank you,"  
"'Sephy!" Hades turned to the third member of the group, who had been sanding impatiently with her hands on her hips. She began to tap her foot and Hercules looked at Meg in his arms, ready to sleep.  
"What do you say we go to bed?" He got a sleepy groan in return. He lifted her carefully and carried her to bed, leaving an arguing Hades and Persephone behind. He carried her to the lavatory, wanting to wash the blood off her, and himself, before climbing into their bed. He helped her into the hot spring that served as their bath, and the hot water felt glorious on his aching muscles. The spring was large enough for them to share it together, but Meg did not want to submerge all the way, the thought of the water on her wounds making her cringe.

He helped her wash, cleaning the dried blood from her, and trying to keep up with the fresh. He changed his mind from his earlier conclusion, and stitched the wounds. The arrow had struck her at a shallow angle, through fat under skin but missing muscle and lung. He wrapped her again in wine-soaked bandages, and wrapped linens around her chest to keep them in place. He lifted her, and carried her to bed, pulling blankets over them both.

"I meant it," Meg whispered in the dark. "I would have died for you today, if it came to it." Hercules shushed her, turning her cheek to kiss her gently.

"I'm glad it never came to that."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at fighting scenes. I seriously do. I am so sorry for how terrible they are... I also had to start rushing it up a bit after page 12. If you want an extended version I can go back to my original document, extend it, and repost this one-shot with the extra-long version. If you want this, please state so in the comments. Also not sure how much I like the ending...


	13. Aladdin, Rating: E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ff.net user Flamer The Fanfic God: What if Aladdin/ Prince Ali never "returned" jasmine to the palace after the magic carpet ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing that always bugged me about the magic carpet ride is how far they traveled in such a short time span. They would have to be traveling at multiple times the speed of sound. While on a piece of carpet. Obviously this requires a complete suspension of belief. Not addressing it in the fic. Just... had to point out how this logical fallacy in the movie irritates me. Don't get me wrong, I love this scene its beautiful. So many landscapes, and getting motion so well with hand drawn animation.
> 
> I liked the first half of this, but when it came to the lemon part for some reason I just started to stumble. So I apologize if the latter bits of this suck... but I do like how the first bit came out. 
> 
> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!
> 
> Yes I realize this chapter involves underage characters, but 16 is a hell of a lot less sketchy than requests I was getting...

**ff.net user Flamer The Fanfic God: What if Aladdin/ Prince Ali never "returned" jasmine to the palace after the magic carpet ride**

 

* * *

Jasmine had her head on his shoulder. He shifted slightly under her weight, and smiled at how well the night had gone. Better than he could have ever hoped for. He had feared she would see through his ruse; well, to be fair, she had. But he had been able to explain it away. He knew from their first encounter that she would have given him a chance, but it was the laws of Agrabah that were their greatest obstacle. It was for that reason he had to trick her with lies and sorcery.  _For the greater good._  He told himself.  _Besides, if it weren't for the Genie I never would have been able to show her all that I can show her._

 _"_ Sorry I accused you of lying to me. I've just grown so used to it by now," Jasmine broke the silence, nuzzling against his shoulder.

 _Well there's that guilt again._  Aladdin thought to himself.  _I'm lying for_ her _not for me. She seems to like me, and seems to be happy. The truth would take all that away._  He tried to justify. Chewing on his bottom lip.

"My father, my guards, other suitors... all of them. Just lies lies lies. For what? My hand in marriage?" Jasmine scoffed.

 _Just really dig that guilt in here._ Aladdin opened his mouth to speak, tempted to tell her the truth. She isn't the one who approves of the law. What if he tells her the truth? She's most likely want to continue the ruse. Pretend with him that he's a prince, all the while getting to know she's with someone she's fond of. No lying to her required.  _But what if the Sultan is expecting me to bring more lands? What... what if I have to rule? Nah, that's nonsense. Besides. Jasmine is the only child. Surely they've taught her some politics._  He lifted his hand, bringing it over to rest over hers, curling his fingers gently around her own. She seemed genuinely happy. So damn happy. Not the fearful girl from the market, running from a life of luxury, and restraint.  _And lies._  He resolved. He would tell her the truth. Starting a relationship off with lies was never healthy. His father had always lied to his mother when he was a child, and look where that ended up.

"Jasmine?" He inquired, clearing is throat to correct the high-pitched crack in his voice.

"Hmm?" She hummed.

"You... you were right. I. I am the boy from the market place. And... it wasn't a disguise.  _This_  is my disguise. After we met I was sent into this place called the Cave of Wonders by some old guy and found a Genie who could grant me three wishes. I used one to turn into a prince. " He spoke quickly, hoping to keep her from interjecting with questions.  _Wow. I sound completely insane._

 _"_ Very funny," She replied, scoffing. He sighed,  _time to try again. Sound less insane this time._

"I mean it. After we met in the marketplace, I wanted to meet you again. But I knew it could never happened because  _you must be married to a prince._  When a strange man told me he needed me to get an item from the Cave of Wonders. He promised me riches in exchange for my help. I thought it was finally my chance to escape from poverty. I mean, I love my little home, but I hate going for days at a time with no food, constantly dodging the guards... So I followed him. I went through the cave and found a strange lamp. I went to give it to the old man as promised in exchange for a lot of money, but the cave came alive and collapsed. But I had the lamp. Went to shine it up a bit, and there was Genie. A real life Djinn. I... I wished to be a prince. So I could meet you again," he explained, slower this time. Jasmine stared at him, an eyebrow arched, and sitting in silence for what felt like eternity.

"A Djinn," She repeated, mulling the words over in her head. He sounded insane. She had heard of this Cave of Wonders before, but it was just a myth. A story. She wasn't sure what to believe. That he was a prince lying about being a poor boy, or that he's a poor boy who really did encounter an impossible stroke of luck.

"Look, if you don't believe me, where could I possibly have gotten a flying carpet from? Those don't exist. Why would I ever be dressed in rags, even for a disguise. Yours made sense. A cloak with a hood, hide your identity. Also, why would those guards have been after me if I was actually a prince? I'm sorry I lied to you... after everyone lies to you. But... the truth would mean we could never meet again,"

"But... Djinn are just a myth, and even in myth they're tricksters. Why would one grant you this wish without any side effects? Some ironic punishment, or downside. That's their thing,"

"Well this isn't perfect. I was forced to lie to you, that's a pretty big downside," Jasmine rolled her eyes at his response,  _kiss ass._  She thought to herself. She was intrigued by him, everything about him was so different from any suitor she had met. Whether he was a poor boy who found a Djinn called Genie, or if he was a rich prince who pretended to be poor, she was attracted to him. He was extremely handsome. He wasn't the same sandstone statue come to beg for her hand. He let her speak and actually  _listened._  He cared about what she wanted, and what she said.  _Oh who gives a damn which one he is. He's interesting. And nicer than any other suitor._ She met his gaze, lifting a skeptical brow as she watched his uncomfortable expression change to downright fear. She chuckled lightly, she wasn't used to  _actually_ being the person with the power over the conversation.

She tilted her head and kissed him, and she could feel how surprised he was with how stiff he suddenly became, but he relaxed quickly enough and returned her gesture. This finally eased him of any guilt and fear he had over the evening. He loosed the iron grip he had on her hand to wrap his arm around her back. She was in light clothing, and his fingertips brushed against her bare back, and he felt her shudder.

Jasmine sighed against his mouth, savoring the kiss and relishing in his touch. Damn propriety, damn the laws, damn her duty to remain pure for a fugure husband. To please her ceaseless suitors. To please Jafar, Father, all of Agrabah. It was  _her_ life. It was  _her_ body. It was her choice to do what she damn well pleased. And what pleased her was this confounding young man who had his arms around her, his lips against hers, his tongue filling her mouth the the taste of his kiss. And she was enjoying every moment of it. She wondered if the poor girls got to enjoy a freedom like this. To give in to impulse and  _enjoy_  life. To feel the sparks of love and desire and be able to act on them. Rather than finding the least-repulsive kiss-ass to come begging for her hand to settle for. This is what she had argued with her father for. For the chance to  _bond_  with someone. Not to find the one suitor she might  _not_  try to kill in his sleep.

The pace stalled, and Jasmine began to feel a lustful stirring below her waist as she desired to continue. How little she knew him, and how stupid the decision would be only made her want him more. She brushed her hand against his thigh, probing for a reaction. She was worried that if he  _was_  a prince, he would be too preoccupied with the legality of this liaison to act. But her fears were quickly pushed aside as she tightened his embrace. He pulled away from the kiss and opened his mouth as if it speak, and she quickly covered his lips with her fingers and shook her head. She didn't want any words to spoil the mood, or give themselves time to rethink their actions.

He got the message. He brought his lips down against the brown skin of her neck, and she sighed deeply as she felt his tongue. It was enough to render her lightheaded as she closed her eyes to better focus on touch. She rubbed his thigh with her thumb, carefully moving her hand higher. He didn't pull away and it was the only encouragement she needed. She moved her hand between his thighs, and got the response she was hoping for. She felt his arousal grow beneath her fingers, and brushed the legth of it with her thumb before rubbing her hand across it through the silk fabric of his pants.

Jasmine was more naive than she would like to admit. Most of her knowledge was obtained by curiously perusing books, and a fairly traumatizing lecture from Jafar when her father was too oblivious to educate her when she started her first moon cycle.

Alladin was equally inexperienced, but more knowledgable. Growing up on the streets he saw how desperate some impoverished women became, and the means they would resort to. He had ventured to the brothel on more than one occasion, although too poor to pay the women for their services. But he had still learned a fair amount from these visits, and hoped now he could apply these lessons to bring Jasmine into a world of pleasure.

Jasmine began to tug at the knotted sash that held Alladin's pants in place. He sat back on his arms, watching her fumble with his clothing. He saw her hands trembling, and reached out,

"Hey... you don't have to do this," He stated, despite his near maddening desire.

"I want to," She quickly replied, returning to her task,

"You're trembling,"

"So are you," She pointed out, and he realized he was trembling nearly as bad as she was. He let out a loose chuckle and let her remove the sash around his waist. He hoped their perch atop a roof would afford them adequate privacy that they would not be caught, and his worries vanished when her hand grasped his bare flesh. He gasped suddely at the contact, and saw Jasmine biting her lip giving him a coy smile. She began to move her hand along his shaft, and he fell back against the roof, lost in sensation. After a few moments he realized he was being selfish, and began tugging at her clothing as well.

Jasmine's cheeks flushed quickly as his hands began to unfasten the ties that held her top in place, the thin fabric pooling around her waist. Alladin's eyes focused on her, taken aback at how perfect she was. He reached out to grasp her breasts in his thumb gently brushing against her chocolate colored nipples, which were stiff beneath his touch. She moaned slightly at the touch, the sound stopped suddenly as if she were ashamed of herself. He wanted to tell her that the sound was the sexiest damn thing he'd ever heard, but he couldn't get the words past the moan in his own throat.

Aladdin wrapped his arms around her, bringing her closer so he could kiss her again. She moved with how he was pulling her, so she was straddling his hips and she leaned over him, returning his kiss with the same lustful exuberance. The feel of her pressed against him was nearly driving him mad with desire. He rolled his hips, and found her quickly matching him. He reached for the hem of her pants, his body absolutely aching for the warmth of her. He felt his hands shaking as he pulled at the remainder of her clothing, as she tilted her hips to ease in the removal of her clothes. After some clumsy movement she sat back against his legs, both enjoying the view of the other naked. He reached for her, rolling her over carefully so he was over her.

He shifted his hips so he was resting against her, and shifted gently and entered her. She let out a whimper, her body tensing beneath his. He stopped, opening his eyes to look at her,

"Did... did I hurt you?" He asked, concerned. He was struggling to control himself, to refrain from thrusting if it was hurting her.

"No. I'm okay," He decided to take her word for it and caved to his animalistic desires. Her uncomfortable groans became moans of pleasure, and she began trying to rock her hips in a clumsy attempt to match his rhythm. "Ali..." She whispered, but Aladdin was too engulfed to respond. He felt her nails raking across his back, and buried his face into her neck. She smelled of rice and sweat, and he kissed her neck to taste the salty sweat beading onto her neck. The taste of her, the smell of her, the feel of her, was absolutely divine. He wanted is to last forever. But never having been with a woman, the liaison was not to last. He strained, wanting to let her experience an earth-shattering climax before their session prematurely ended.

"Ali, don't..." Jasmine whispered, trying to tell him to achieve orgasm while they were still joined. She was able to maintain a glimmer of logic in the fog of lust, and had no desire to discover her next moon cycle was never to come. "You need to..." She was to embarrassed to say the words. Despite what they were doing. But Aladdin seemed to understand what she was trying to say, and withdrew from her, despite every instruction of his own body. He withdrew before climaxing, and laid back against the roof, panting. Jasmine lay gasping to catch her breath beside of them, the young pair exhausted yet exhilarated by what they had just done.

Aladdin sat up to redress, and noticed the blood.

"Are you okay?!" He asked, horrified, turning to Jasmine his cheeks burning as he felt suddenly ashamed for hurting her.

"Calm down... it's normal," She quickly responded. She remembered being lectured that this would happen. It had never occurred to her that he may never have been taught the same. But she thought all royals were taught that a "proper virgin wife" bled on her first night? Maybe he was telling the truth afterall that he was just a poor boy who stumbled upon impossible odds and found Djinn.

"Does... it hurt? Did it hurt?" Aladdin asked, sad that he experienced such intense pleasure, but she had been hurt. Had be been too rough?

"At first... but no... that was..." She paused, nodding her head slightly, "pretty amazing," She chuckled. She looked out across the dim cityscape, furrowing her brow. She was suddenly aware that she was now sullied, dirtied, used. She shook her head again.  _No._  Those are just more useless rules made up by a group of grumpy men to put more control on her life. Everything she wanted, or did, was bad. Not proper. She wasn't defined by their rules. "I wish I didn't have to go back," She said as she began to redress. "Tonight has been the best night of my life. When I go back... it's just more rules, regulations, schedules, laws, routine... rules, rules, rules. Always the same. Tonight.. I got to see things I never thought I'd see. I got to go places I could never go because 'a good princess stays at home' I got to experience things I was always told a princess can't experience." She lamented, dropping her shoulders.

"So don't go back." Aladdin responded, shifting over to help her finish fastening her clothes. "Why does this have to just be one night? I can take you anywhere, show you anything. We don't have to follow rules, or fight for food, or run from the guards... we can do what we want. We can be  _happy._ "

Jasmine contemplated his words, and his tempting offer. She thought about her father, what would he think? He would send half the army out to find her if she just disappeared without word. Jafar would likely ascend to power, and she shuddered at the thought. And what about Raja? She knew he was a pampered palace cat, and her father would spoil him to the day he died. She had been able to bring herself to leave him once to leave home. She could do it again. It would hurt even more than leaving her father, but the thought of going home hurt even more.

"Not go back..." She mumbled, mulling it over. It wasn't just tempting. It was everything she ever wanted. To not be cattle, to be sold to the highest bidder. To not just be a piece on a board game. A strategy to gain more land and power for Agrabah. If she went with Ali, or Aladdin, whichever was his true name... she could  _live._ "Let's do it. Forget Agrabah."

* * *

 


	14. Hercules, Rating: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ff.net user Z-king: What if Hades learned that pain and panic failed to kill baby Hercules during his babyhood i mean think about it he is the lord of the underworld he should have know Hercules was not dead it should not have taken him 18 years to find out right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

**Z-king: What if Hades learned that pain and panic failed to kill baby Hercules during his babyhood i mean think about it he is the lord of the underworld he should have know Hercules was not dead it should not have taken him 18 years to find out right?**

* * *

Hades stared at the large stone map, nudging some of the carved stone pieces about trying to come up with the most advantageous strategy. He had another eighteen more years to finish this plan he had been concocting for nearly a century, and he wanted every detail perfect. He saw the small stone carving of a cradle, representing the infant Hercules. He stopped, realizing he never noticed the infant's soul come to the river. The blue flames on his body began to grow, clenching his fists. He was willing to bet his bumbling minions failed in their quest.

"Pain! Panic!" He bellowed, grasping the edges of his map rightly. He heard their familiar retorts of loyalty and devotion, as well as the clumsy clatter of their struggle to get ot the throne room. He pondered why he used these fools for anything. When they finally staggered into the room, Panic pacing in circles, Pain gasping for breath. After announcing their presence it took all his self control to not immediately punt them back out.

"I seem to recall," Hades started, pacing around the throne room, "Giving you two a simple task. All you had to do was take a sleeping baby, give it some formula, and kill the wriggling ball of body fluids." He stated calmly, and he noticed the immediate change in body language in his minions. That told him all he needed.  _Damnit!_  He thought, his flames beginning to grow once more, the pair of quivering demons backing away from him until they were pinned to the wall. "So boys, tell me a little something..." He turned to face them, walking closer. "Why. Is. He. Still.  _Alive_?!" Flames erupted from his body, filling the room with a flash of white-hot plasma. The walls heated enough to have melted briefly, leaving scattered surfaces smooth as glass. The charred demons collapsed, coughing soot. "Guess I'm on my own this time," He muttered, storming up to them. "Now tell me,  _where is he?"_

Panic, still coughing, got himself to his feet and knit his clawed fingers nervously,

"Well... you see... we were giving the umm... formula and... well you see these two mortals interrupted us he must not have finished the formula because the baby was able to beat the crap out of me and Pain and-"

"Panic. Just tell me where that baby is,  _now_ " Hades interrupted, straining to keep his temper under control. He was already going to have to re-carve most of his figures now that they were almost charred beyond recognition.

"Well these two mortals-"

"Names?" Hades interrupted again, trying to cut off the bumbling creature from carrying on.

"I think I heard one of them call the other Alcmene?" Pain offered, hoping the information would get him back into his master's good graces. Hades finally reigned in his anger, the flames finally settling back to their standard blue and he ran a hand through his hair.

"Okay, we can fix this boys. Just go bring that baby strait to me, okay? No side-trips to Disneyworld, just get the baby, and bring it here. Got it?" The pair nodded, and vanished from his sight.

* * *

Pain and Panic made their way through the winding caverns, to the entrance by the sea that was the closest entrance to Thebes. They had shed most of their charred skin, revealing the freshly grown laywer underneath. They had grown used to these outbursts over the last century, Hades's temper getting ever more fragile as it grew closer to the conjunction.

" _If_  he finds out..." Panic mumbled, remembering how Pain had conned him into giving up persuit of the baby Hercules with the assumption Hades would never discover their error. "This always happens. You always convince me to keep a secret from Hades, he finds out, and we have to molt our skin again,"

"How was I supposed to know he'd find out?" Pain defended, waddling to keep up with his companion.

"He  _always_  finds out!" Panic lisped, crossing his arms.

"Well come on, we can't get caught like this," Pain responded, changing subjects. He shifted into a bird, prompting Panic to do the same. "So we know it's a woman named Alcmene,"

"I think I heard her call the man something beginning with Am?" Panic added, fluttering his fragile wings to keep up with Pain who was heading towards the agora.

"Well let's go to the agora. We can hear all kinds of names. Just follow anyone who's name sounds right until we find the kid!" Pain explained, and flew ahead of his companion, his thin wings straining to support his pudgy body. Panic, much faster than his corpuscular friend, flew in circles around him to keep from getting too far ahead of him.

"We better find this kid fast..." Panic sputtered, "Or Hades will do  _wors_ e than kill us!"

"I dunno, maybe we can just pick any random kid," Pain suggested, and Panic thought his heart would stop merely at the thought of such deception.

"No! Remember? Hades went to the baby shower? He's seen the kid!"

"Oh come on, you really think he remembers it? He drank enough booze to kill a horse!"

"And when he finds out we snatched the wrong kid?" Panic offered, fluttering in front of Pain to block his path. "Not  _if._ When. You said 'if' he finds out we didn't kill the kid and he found out! Of course he'll figure out it was the wrong kid!" Panic sputtered, spinning in circles trying to work off his nervous energy.

"Fine fine. We'll do it  _your_  way this time," Pain complained, and meandered around his trembling friend. "But you'll get anxious to get the job done and give in," He continued, and ignored Panic's insistence otherwise.

The pair of birds arrived at the agora, Most of the stalls had just finished setting up shop, and the first crowds of the day were milling in. Farmers with their carts of crops, eggs, chickens, and other goods. Hunters with their morning kills, the fishermen dragging in their first catch of the day. The air was stained with a nasal assaulting combination of smells, which only got worse when a child overturned a covered basket containing an orange spice.

"Where should we wait? This place is huge!" Panic complained, chewing on one clawed foot, most of his blue feathers standing on end, and those that weren't were falling out.

"Well they got the kid only like a week ago, where would someone go for baby stuff?" Pain asked. The other bird shrugged. They argued for several minutes, mostly in hushed whispers that frequently changed to manic chirping, before settling on the fish monger. "Everyone eats fish,"

The smell of the fresh fish was making Panic's mouth water. He wanted just one taste, one little morsal. He looked around at the bustling crowd, and down at the basket containing the morning catch. Would the fisherman notice a bird nibbling on one? He wasn't let out of the underworld much, and fresh fish was always a luxury he sought on the rare occasion he was left off the leash.

"No." Pain insisted, earning a confused look from Panic. "You do this every time. You always get caught. No."

"But-but-"

" _You're_ the one who wanted to do this the  _right_  way so pay attention!" Pain whispered harshly, hoping not to draw too much attention from the mortals. Panic huffed, puffing the feathers on his chest before reluctantly relaxing. He tried to listen to the bustle of voices, trying to pick out a familiar name or see if he recognized a face. But that smell of the fish was too tempting. He looked up at Pain, watching to see if he was focused enough on his task to let Panic slip away for just a moment. He shifted, carefully, into a cat. It was grey-fured and missing some in the patches where he had been pulling at his feathers. With the senses of a cat the fish grew to an obsession. He crept to the rear of the stall's roof, and looked down into the basket. There were fish of many sizes and types. He could even tell which fish was giving which scent. Licking his lips, determined to be successful just this  _once_ , he leapt off the roof.

The fisherman, and Pain, both failed to notice his leap from the roof of the stall and his subsequent mad dash to hide behind some tall grass. He crouched, ready to pounce. The basket was low, and he knew he could grab one of the smaller fish and dash to the roof of the stall without being caught. He had enough practice,  _this_  time he wouldn't get caught. He leapt.

"Damn cats!" The fisherman yelled, barely missing lopping off Panic's tail with a mad swing of his knife. Panic dashed, his prize in his mouth, around confused feet and attempts to kick him. He leapt up a set up stairs, and dissapearing into an alley.  _Well. Got caught. But got my fish!_  He felt triumphant. He began to devour his coveted meal when Pain finally caught up to him, still the pudgy red bird.

"I  _told_  you not to do it Panic! What if we miss them?"

"I couldn't resist!" Panic defended, swallowing a large mouthful of his meal. "Other than our bad attempt at kidnapping the kid, when wsa the last time we were on the surface? I'm surprised you didn't go after the bakery! You love sweet rolls. Hades is gonna fry us one way or the other. Might as well add a happy memory to the mission," Pain landed near his friend and sighed, admitting to himself that Panic was right.

"I just want to get this overwith. The longer we take, the more we screw up, the worse Hades will fry us,"

"We probably already did," Panic admitted, "We screwed up once, why not again? Go get a sweetroll, enjoy it, and we can carry on." Panic mumbled through a mouthful. "Where did he  _get_  this?! I've never had such a buttery fish!" Having said his piece, Panic contented himself on the remainder of his meal while his reluctant companion flew off, returning later with a sweetroll in his claws. The pair finished their coveted treats, and as a pair of birds returned to the fish stand after Panic promised he ate his fill and wouldn't do this again.

The agora was growing more crowded, adding the distinct pungency of bodily musk to the already overwhelming scent of the agora. The faces grew more numerous, and the voices even more difficult to focus on. They tried to listen to just names, able to ignore large numbers of people for being too young, too old, Those who had children with them who were well beyond their infancy. But it still left them with more faces than they could count to try and keep track of. They thought they heard the names they were looking for, but the faces were always far too old or far too young. By sunset, the pair were ready to give up and return to Tartarus to accept their beating.

"Amphitryon!" A voice called, and Pain thought he remembered that name. He pecked madly at Panic, who was busy anxiously ripping out ever more feathers.

"I think I heard the name!"

"Another false alarm," Panic quipped miserably.

"No no. This voice is familiar!" Pain insisted. Panic reluctantly stopped his masochistic preening to see what Pain was so wound up about, and realized the face  _was_ familiar. "Come on," The pair flew off, following the elderly man as he rejoined a woman who was at least a decade his junior. She was holding a bundle in her arms, and the demons exchanged looks. They perched on a nearby windowsill, and eyed the couple. A low growling interrupted their observation.

"Panic if you're a cat again to go after some fish I swear-"

"It's not me!" Panic defended. The pair looked around, and nearly missed the large mangy brown cat leaping at them. They took to the sky, shrieking, and fluttered quickly out of the cats reach and continued their panicked flight until they were well above the rooftops. "That... was  _too_  close!" Panic spat, dramatically flopping onto his back.

"I hate all these stupid mortal creatures," Pain mumbled. They lay there, panting, and trying to catch their breath. "Uh... Panic?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you pay attention to where that couple was going?"

"I was busy trying... not to... be... eaten..." Panic trailed off, and once again the demons were in a panic. "What are we gonna do!"

"Wait, I'll turn into a dog, you fly ahead to see if you can find them! I'm sure I can catch their scent. That baby smelled weird, I'm sure I can find them as a dog," Pain stated, amazed at his own brilliance. Panic was skeptical, but had no better ideas. He flew off to try and see if he could spot the couple, making sure not to lose sight of Pain in the process. The last thing he wanted to do was get lost, have Pain find the baby, and return to the underworld with it so Panic could limp home days later to be fried alive while Pain was rewarded.

Pain sniffed, and was surprised how quickly he found the infant's smell. As a dog it was much more potent, and brought tears to his eyes and he nearly shifted into something else just to clear the overpowering stench. He walked, carefully following the scent. He walked, for what he felt like was the entire length of Greece but in reality was only two miles, before finding a small home. The smell grew ever stronger, and he knew he had found it. He gratefully turned back into a bird, bringing the maddening stench down to background noise. A shrill whistle, echoed back by Panic, helped the pair locate eachother.

"Sure this is the place?" Panic mumbled. Pain wondered how he was able to fly with so few feathers left. Pain nodded,

"I'm sure. Come on, we'll hide until they're asleep and take the kid, rush back to Hades, and hopelly only be fried a little instead of having to molt again. I hate doing that twice in one day," He muttered.

"That's only 'cause you're so fat you can hardly get your old skin off!" Pain growled, and decided to ignore Panic. If he fought with him now, they might clue the humans as to something happening and they would stay up later or take extra precautions to protect the infant. They fluttered to a nearby tree, where they waited for the mortals to sleep.

* * *

"Okay. They've been in that bed long enough I'm pretty sure they're asleep," Pain stated, startling Panic out of a light sleep.

"What makes you so sure?"

"The taller one is snoring loud enough I can hear it from here," apparently satisfied with that response Panic joined Pain, joyously slipping back to their natural forms, and slipped through a window in the bedroom. They took one final glance at the couple and snatched the infant, flying far and fast as the soft sleeping coos of the infant turned into raucous screams.

"Why does Hades want this noisy thing?" Panic complained, straining to hold the pudgy baby.

"So he can't fight in eighteen years!" Pain replied incredulously.

"This kid is loud enough to wake up all of Greece! Or worse yet,  _Zeus_!"

"The kid is mortal now, Zeus can't take him!"

"But he can fry us for having him!" Panic replied, and began to chew on his bottom lip.

"All the more reason to hurry back to the underworld!" Pain shouted, and the pair struggled back to the water where the entrance to Tartarus rest. They made their way through the winding tunnels, and found their way to the throne room where they found Hades still obsessing over his map.

"Oh your great evilness?" Pain announced their return, "we have it," They put the infant down, and quickly scrambled away from the screaming creature. Hades approached, his expression impossible to read so the demons were unsure if they were in for a reward, or a fiery explosion. Hades reached down for the kid, who began to calm down at being handled properly,

"I'd recognize this face anywhere. This is Zeus's kid alright. Good work boys," the pair flinched, "Kinda surprised really, expected you to bring me the wrong baby and try to pass it off!" He laughed, making the pair flinch again. "Ya know, I've been hard on you, here," He flicked one hand, a large absinthe bottle appareing in it. "Take this and stay out of my sight tonight" He flung the bottle at the fumbling demons, who somehow manage to catch it. "Have fun buys, we have a lot more work ahead of us," They wasted no time scrambling out of the room.

"So, you little snotrag..." Hades trailed, flicking his hand again to form a dagger. "Nice knowin' ya and all, but. Bad investment really, you understand. I mean the real estate market is so fragile! Especially on these cosmic scales!" He looked down at the infant Hercules, who cooed and gave a weak smile, reaching up with his pudgy arms. "No arguing now! I'm the boss yere, you don't get to sass me. This is happenin' kid," another coo, "I mean it!" Hades bit his lip, and narrowed his eyes. "You win this round."  _Those fates only said he can't fight. Didn't saying anything about living. Besides, might be nice in a few years to have something intelligent to talk to. Persephone has been begging me for a kid anyways._

"See! I told you it would have ended badly if we brought home a random baby!" Panic insisted, and the pair enjoyed the divine liquid gifted to them.

* * *

 


	15. Alice in Wonderland, Rating: T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one in specif (Guest): What if Alice(from Alice in Wonderland) is a girl from current times-who was simply on a dozen different types of drugs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't seen the movie in YEARS so I apologize if stuff happens out of order, and I KNOW the dialogue is wrong. I hope this is still enjoyable.
> 
> Also Dina is the cat, a user on ff.net pointed this out and I'm too lazy to fix it, so I called her sister Dina. 
> 
> Disclaimer: While I am a nurse, I have not done a lot of work with drugs and drug rehab. So I hope I can do the situation justice. It is a delicate subject that hits home to many people, and I just want to make sure I don't offend.

 

 **No one in specif (Guest): What if Alice(from Alice in Wonderland) is a girl from current times-who was simply on a dozen different types of drug** s

 

* * *

Dina fretted while she pacing in the claustrophobic studio apartment. She bit her thumbnail while looking from her sister, to the table containing an empty syringe, plastic bag, and a prescription bottle with the label torn off.

"What did you do, what did you do," Her sister was lying on the floor, mumbling incoherently. "Hold on Alice, help is coming,"

_Alice looked at the field around her, hearing indistinct voices in the distance. She didn't want to read... Dina and her books. She just wanted to sleep. A noise caught her attention, and she turned her head to see a white rabbit dressed in some rather dapper clothing._

_"Well aren't you a silly thing?" she chimed, and rolled over so she could approach the strange creature, who seemed to be staring at his watch,_

Dina saw Alice's hand reach out, the girl hardly able to control her own muscles. She shook her head, and tucked her phone between her ear and her shoulder,

"How far are they? Her breathing is slowing down and she keeps shaking!" Dina shouted into the phone.

"Just stay calm ma'am, and stay with me, okay? Help is on the way. Just be sure to protect her head if she's shaking"

"What if she stops breathing?" Dina croaked, the sob she had been restraining finally breaking.

"Stay calm, help is on the way, just stay with her," The emergency operator instructed.

" _Hmm... a strange mushroom and a strange drink. One says eat me, one says drink me." Alice reached for the mushroom and took a bite. It tasted horrible. But then again, the most fun mushrooms always tasted terrible. She felt like her whole body was filling was air, the_ _room_ _shrinking_ _around her. She giggled at it. Languishing in the feeling. Then she saw the little rabbit again. "Strange creature," she commented. The rabbit disappeared through a tiny door. "Well that's not fair," She complained, and then remembered the drink on the table. "I wonder..." She took a sip,_

"She's seizing!" Dina cried, have to resist the urge to hold her shaking body still. "Stupid... stupid Alice! I told you this would happen!" she screamed at the unconscious girl, tears pouring down her face. She hear sirens, their blue and white lights flashing against the window as they pulled up. She dashed to the door, running to the porch railing waving her arms wildly to catch their attention, "Over here!" The ambulance arrived first, the first responder running up to her while his partner gathered a gurney from the back of the truck.

"Can you tell me what's going on, ma'am?"

"I think she took a bunch of drugs... there's a needle, a bottle, and a bag that probably had something else in it," Dina stammered through her sobs, leading the man to her sister. "I don't know what was in the bottle, as far as I know she wasn't on any meds. I think she bought it." She continued.

"How long has she been like this?"

"I came home from work early, she was like that when I got in so I don't know... I-I tried to call, before I left work, she never answered. So at least twenty minutes?" The second man came running run to catch up to his partner. He saw the needle on the table, and assumed heroin,

"Narcan?" The conversation dissolved into medical technobabble Dina couldn't keep up with while they loaded her sister onto the stretcher and the group moved to the ambulance.

_Alice was lost in a forest of flowers and towering mushrooms. She smiled, it was beautiful. A caterpillar was atop a mushroom, smoking from a hooka and judging by the smell of the smoke it was not tobacco in that hooka. She approached, curious about the creature._

_"Who are, a-you?" he inquired, blowing smoke rings into the air._

_"_ _Alice," She answered. This certainly looked more fun than studying. Dina can take her books and her 'you need to get into a good school' attitude. College wasn't for her. It would just be more books and studying. She wanted to go to trade school, learn how to do something fun. Well truth be told she just wanted to party, maybe own a club, but she knew she wasn't smart enough for business school._

_"And who are you?" Alice inquired, climbing atop the mushroom. She wanted to inquire about the hooka, try whatever was in it,_

The EMTs hooked Alice up to oxygen, putting needles into her arms and hanging bags of clear fluids. Dina was sobbing into her hands, praying to any deity who would listen that her sister would make it. Alice had fallen into these bad habits while she was in middle school after their parents died. She was eighteen at the time and successfully appealed for custody of her sister to keep her out of the foster system. She dropped out of school to work full-time so she could raise her sister.  _I can do better. I have to do better. This is partially my fault. If I was a better caretaker..._  and she resumed sobbing.

" _Well that panned out poorly." Alice complained, the caterpillar had refused to share and then she had been chased off by some angry flowers. She was beginning to think this magical land wasn't as fun as she thought at first glance. But then she saw the rabbit again, and decided to follow. Why not?_

Dina spent what felt like hours in the waiting room before being allowed to see her sister. She was still unconscious, an oxygen mask over her face, a tube going down her nose, more tubes in har arms, wires coming off her chest to a noisy machine displaying an EKG reading, it was as if the girl was part machine. The doctor was trying to explain to her what happened, but the horror of seeing her little sister in such a state made it impossible to listen to him.

"Will she make it?" The only question that mattered.

"She should. But we want to send her to a rehab facility," Dina agreed, she wanted whatever would help her sister. Alice was only sixteen, Dina was allowed to make this choice from her. Even If her sister never spoke to her again, she would get her help. She would fix this. It's what Mother and Father would have wanted. She approached Alice, sitting in the chair set next her, clasping her hand,

"I know these last four years have been hard... but you were always the stronger one when we were kids. That's why I know you can beat this. I kind of want to kill you for scaring me like this," She chuckled nervously. "But this isn't right..."

 _"Off with her head!"_   _the Red Queen commanded. Alice swallowed and ran, faster than she thought possible. She felt like she was a moving car. Her heart began to thump faster, she was running fast enough the colorful fantasy colors began to fade. There was a clamor of voices as she was chased through a long tunnel. There was a dim light at the end and she ran. Faster and faster, her heart pounding ever harder. She dove through the light in the tunnel,_

 _"Alice?"_  Dina's voice inquired, and her sister's eyes fluttered open.

"Dina?" Alice croaked, her mouth felt like she had spent the last day eating cotton. Her muscles were sore, and her head was throbbing. "Where... where am I?" She looked around, everything was still partially blurry but it looked like a hospital?

"The hospital Alice..." Dina trailed off. She wanted to yell, scream, cuss, tell Alice how stupid she was, lecture her about the idiocy of what she did. But she just threw her arms around her sister, "You scared the life out of me,"

"The hospital?" Alice couldn't remember much other than her dream, but even that was beginning to fade. "What happened?" Dina sighed, and told her sister everything.


	16. Hercules, Rating: T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ff.net user Laughs4life: What if Hades actually succeeded in taking over Olympus?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

* * *

"Hercules! Look out!" Hercules heard Meg's voice a moment before her weight collided with him, her arms wrapping around so they both fell aside. The great column slammed into the ground not a palm's-length from them. Reeling from the roar of collapsing stone, it was several moments before they collected themselves. "You alright?" Meg gasped, quickly pulling away from him to avoid the anger in his eyes.

"Meg..." He trailed off, reaching for her as she stood.

"You alright?" She repeated,

"Y-yeah. Umm I'm fine... are you...?"

"I'm okay," She replied. She turned to him, and extended a hand. He took it, standing with her help.

"Meg... why did you... I mean... you could have been..." He stammered, still tightly clasping her hand to keep her from pulling away again.  _Was I wrong about her? Did I just let Hades trick me?_ He questioned himself. She sighed, dropping her gaze again, this time a sad smile tugged at her features,

"I guess people always do crazy things..." She paused, taking a deep breath, "When they're in love," she finished, looking up at him with a shrug.

"Meg..."  _She, she loves me?_  He thought about how she was acting at the stadium. Desperately trying to warn him, get him to not make the deal. Writhing in Hades's arms trying to escape his grip.  _"Hades_..."

"Manipulated you, it's what he does," She scoffed. Pegasus and Phil pulled out of their daze and ran over to the pair, Phil's thick drawl cutting through the stiff silence,

"Whoa kid, you okay?" He shouted, glancing from the hero to the fallen stone. Pegasus let out an enthusiastic whinny to punctuate the satyr's concern. Hercules nodded, his gaze still locked on Megara.

"You did it Wonderboy," She tried to smile, and then she chuckled when his brow furrowed in confusion, "The Cyclops." She clarified.

"Knew you could do it kid! Without your strength! Talk about a hero!" Phil cheered, with more accompanying chirping and whinnies from Pegasus. "And... I guess you too, for pushin' him outta the way 'n all," Phil ambled, briefly making eye contact with Meg. She averted her gaze and shrugged, waiting for the anger about her betrayal to return.

"But what now? It took everything I had to take out the  _Cyclops_ he's not even a real Titan. How can I defeat Hades now?" The group ceased their celebratory mood. The rumbling of thunder mocked their situation with a sense of irony not missed on any of them. Meg's eyes widened,  _Fine, okay, Meg is safe, otherwise you get your strength right back..._

"I have an idea!" Meg announced, "Give me your hunting knife," she looked at Hercules,

"What?" He stepped back from her, reaching defensively at his hip,

"Maybe there's a loophole," She explained, "Meg is safe, otherwise you get your strength right back," She mocked Hades with a twirl of her fingers. "He never said  _how_  hurt. Maybe I just give myself a little cut with your knife, and all is fixed," She explained. The group exchanged looks, and Hercules chewed on his bottom lip.

"I don't know..." He replied, still protecting the knife at his hip.

"What do you have to lose?" Meg replied, straining to control her tone. Time was something they didn't have. Hercules sighed, and produced the knife holding the handle out to her. She took it, and quickly pulled the blade across the back of her arm with a sharp gasp. Hercules flinched as he watched her do so, a dark crimson line quickly appearing. She cleaned the blade against her chiton and held it back out to him. "Feel different?" she asked, clasping her free hand over the bleeding wound. Hercules looked at his hands, flexing them as he shook his head.

"Try pickin' somethin' up," Phil suggested. "Maybe ya won't feel it till ya try." Hercules nodded at his trainer and walked up to the column that nearly killed him. The group watched anxiously as he reached down for the edge of the stone, and strained against the impossible weight.

"Come on!" He groaned, his face flushing red, his knuckles blanched white.

"It didn't work," Meg sighed. Hercules continued to strain against the weight, cursing and begging. "Hercules, stop. It didn't work!" She yelled. Undeterred he continued to his vain struggle. Meg sighed, walking up to him and grabbed his shoulder and pulled on him, "Hercules  _stop._ " She repeated, and he finally stopped, falling to his knees. Meg sank down beside him. "We'll think of something," She added, doubting her own words.

"I have to fight, I have to try," He shook his head, looking towards Pegasus.

"Don't be foolish. Think this through," Meg replied. Hercules looked at her sighed,

"I have to do  _something._ "

"I'm the one giving orders now bolt boy, and I think I'm gonna' like it here" Hades sat back against this throne, sipping at the glowing drink in his hand. Zeus was trapped, the Pantheon in chains, the Titans were back (will do a good job filling up Tartarus) and Hercules was helpless to do anything about it. "About time something goes my way," He smirked. "Pain, Panic," He shouted, his voice carried to the imps who ran up to him with a quivering salute,

"Here, sir!" They shouted,

"Where's Persephone?" Hades asked, forming a second throne beside himself. He hadn't seen his wife for a few months, it was her "mother's turn" to have her. The selfish woman wouldn't acknowledge that her daughter was a grown woman and was allowed to leave her mother's side. Especially now that she was married. Even with their compromise Demeter had to throw a multi-month temper tantrum and threaten famine every time Persephone returned to Tartarus.  _Well no more of that._ _It's my turn now, and I know how to set everything right._

Eons in Tartarus gave Hades more than enough time to watch the Pantheon and the results of their efforts. The world was falling apart. Zeus allowed Demeter to curse the world with winter because of a temper tantrum over her daughter; Ares, Athena, and Enyo rage war unchecked; allowed Aphrodite to curse a rape victim and created the monster Medusa. Their selfishness and arrogance would end, Hades would show the mortals was a  _true_  ruler of the Gods would do. The world would see a new era of peace and prosperity. They would praise his name across the lands. They would erect temples in his name. His name would invoke respect and love, no longer fear.

"Uhh.." Pain mumbled a bit and gestured to the shackled Pantheon.

"What?!" He bellowed, the two imps cowering and covering their heads which were already protected by oversized helmets stolen from Athena and Ares. "She was the  _one_  Goddess I said  _not_  to chain up.  _One_. How is that so hard to remember?" He held up a fist and lifted one specific finger, "Lemme try counting again. One... There. One. Got it?  _One!_ " He bellowed again. Okay maybe a  _little_  fear from his subjects would be acceptable. "Unchain her immediately _!"_  The two fumbled away and Hades flopped back against his throne swallowing the remainder of his drink in one long swig and immediately produced another.

A tall thin woman approached, flanked on either side by Pain and Panic who were slouched low enough that the large helmets protected nearly their entire bodies. Her long blonde gurls accented her narrow shoulders, a dress the color of a virgin's cheeks on her wedding night hung from her lithe form, trailing behind her leaving a path of flowers in her wake. A plume of pink rose from the top of her head.

"Sephy!" Hades clapped, gesturing excitedly to the throne beside him.

"Hades!" A shrill voice erupted from the woman, a tone far louder and deeper than her delicate features would have suggested. "What have you  _done?!"_ She continued, exasperated. "Release everyone  _at once_." She insisted, crossing her arms. Hades couldn't help but notice the way they made her breasts rise, heaving with each angry breath.

"Once they swear their loyalty to me. Everyone will be free to continue their hedonistic affairs, sipping absinthe and eating everything under the sun. All I ask is a simple vow. They followed  _Zeus_  the loudmouth buffoon for countless Eons. Takes more than brainless muscle to run the cosmos," Hades insisted.

"You unchain my mother Hades, or so help me..."

"Okay okay," Hades held up his hands defensively. He had never seen eye-to-eye with Demeter. The plump matron returned the sentiment. Each year when his wife would return to him Demeter would try to throw a hunger strike (with the earthly mortals the ones who go hungry) until Persephone returned home. You'd think she'd give up on her efforts after all these centuries. He turned to the still quivering Pain and Panic, their trembling bodies clanging the helmets like bells against the ground at the sound of their names. "Let Demeter go too," He paused, looking back at his wife who's face was still redder than the volcanic Titan, "Come on Seph. Take a seat,"

Persephone sighed, and with an exaggerated flourish of her hands threw herself dramatically into the chair, crossing her arms again and refusing to look at her husband. Loathe as she was to admit it at the moment, she loved the stubborn psychopath. He had stated for centuries he intended to overthrow Olympus. She just never thought he would carry through with it. And what of Tartarus?

"Well what are you going to do about Tartarus? You can't just let it fester. Zeus put you there for a reson, he needed someone strong to rule a kingdom even larger than Terra," Persephone asked, still refusing to look at him.

"He put me down there to get me out of his hair. The Undrerworld has plenty of supervision between the Fates, Charon, and the Erinyes. Zeus, Mister 'I'm so awesome. I beat the Titans. I slayed our ancestors!' couldn't stand the thought of being out shined by his brothers. Why do you think he also shoved Poseidon into the ocean? The only reason our sister Hera stuck around is because she married the idiot," He prattled on. His thoughts were interrupted when Demeter came charging up to where Hades and Persephone were sitting on their thrones.

"Hades!"  _Enough with the yelling._ Hades thought bitterly, pinching the bridge of his nose and glancing at the source of the noise,

"Demeter!" He shouted back, mocking how shrill her normally sugary voice sounded.

"Not satisfied with our arrangement now you come barreling up here, throw everything into chaos, betrayed your brother, your  _blood,_  and decide to kidnap my daughter during  _my_  time with her?" The sound was like scraping a dagger against a bronze shield.

"You really think this is about me kidnapping Persephone?" He asked, incredulous. Was the woman really so obsessed?

"Can you two stop talking like I'm not here?" An ignored sound came from beside the arguing deities, who were both on their feet staring each other down.

"She's still here, up here, on Olympus. I violated  _no_ part of our little deal. And hey, look, you're free! You can sit beside your taughter and keep her on that tight leash you keep her on. It's not like she can't decide for herself. Oh no. Mommy knows best. Mommy dearest always knows best. Must never stray from Mommy. Must never marry. Must never-"

"Enough!" Persephone cut in again, hands on her hips, ears flaring as red as her cheeks. Hades responded with annoyed grunt and flopped back into his throne, downing his second drink as he watched his wife and mother-in-law (how he  _hated_  to think of the crazed woman as such) argue passionately. The glowing drink was working it's befuddling magic and dulling his throbbing senses. His vision carried over to the chained up Pantheon, whom were being taunted by Pain and Panic who had apparently decided to occupy their time with seeking revenge against the Gods rather than cowering in fear of their master.  _I am gonna sleep like, well, the dead._ With the hard work done Hades just let the two hens screech at each other like Banshees while he enjoyed the fruits of his labors. Working on this third absinthe martini and a fresh bowl of varied fruits lying in a bed of cream. O _nly the mortals thought raw milk was barbaric. Idiots didn't realize what they were missing. That's another thing I'll fix, all these stupid food restrictions. Let the mortals eat whatever they want._

 _"Hades!"_ An unexpected voice joined the chorus of shouts.

 _"What?!"_ Hades screamed, seeing a sight he never expected. Hercules, atop his noble steed flying towards them brandishing his sword. The boy looked like he had fought in a war. Even from the distance Hades could identify that he was sporting a black eye, matching the patchwork of other bruises. One of his hands appeared to have a small burn, and his shoulder hung awkwardly as if it were partially dislocated. One foot was clearly swollen in the sandals which appeared almost a size too small.

"Don't get too comfortable!" He laughed, and Hades sat back in his throne. The Pantheon cheered, but their celebrations were cut short when an icy hand swatted into Hercules as if he were no more than an insect. He came crashing down into the ground, Pegasus straining to keep himself from falling from the sky. Although sculpted from the sky itself the ground was not as soft as it's clouded appearance would suggest.

The sudden calamity brought a much needed cessation to the argument carrying on as all eyes looked towards their failed salvation. The Titans moved in on the unmoving form of Hercules and Hades smirked. He had his share of monologues, he was ready to just be rid of the ginger nuisance.

"Stop!" Persephone squealed. Hades shot her a look, momentarily furious she would interrupt his final victory, the cherry on the cake. But he was his dearest Persephone. The Titans must have been as stunned as Hades, for they stopped their approach and stared at the gods, as Hercules groaned and began to squirm on the groun.

"Stop?" asked Hades, straining to control his temper. She was the one person he always try to restrain himself around. Persephone was the last one he ever wanted to be on the receiving end of one of his rage-fits.  _Surely the bright pleasant environment of Olympus will be a_ bit _cheerier than the dank smelly cold dark brimstone-scented halls of Tartarus. Constantly smelling rotten eggs and death can make anyone pissy._

"Leave him alone, okay?" asked Persephone, her tone quiet, almost fearful. "You won... don't... don't kill him. Please?" She inquired.

"Why do you care about that whelp? He's just another obnoxious blowhard! Come on babe, I've been trying to end that exuberant supernova of dopamine for almost two decades!" Hades threw up his hands, holding up two fingers his hand trembling. "He represents  _everything_  that was in my way of happiness! Everything that was in the way of  _us_  being together, and not just for a few months a year. Having a real marriage. I mean... this way, we can finally have kids! A family! Things we've talked about for centuries but never could!"

"You are  _not_  siring any children with my daughter!" Demeter cut in.

"Mother,  _not now!"_ Persephone shouted, putting her hands on her hips. "We can continue our fight later, this is between Hades and I and you will stay out of it!" Demeter opened her mouth to cut in, incredulous that Persephone would consider her conversation with Hades more important than her conversation with her own mother. But she sensed that arguing further would be fruitless. Besides, if her daughter was going to convince Hades to show Hercules mercy she wanted to step out of the way. She was fond of the boy. "Please, Hades. Show clemency. You've won, and something is clearly wrong with him and he can't stop you,"

Persephone and Hades continued their argument, their voices surprisingly subdued. Hercules groaned, his ears still ringing from the impact with the ground. All the sounds around him melded into one blurry cacophony. His whole body throbbed. One arm hung uselessly at his side, and his already swollen foot was pressing painfully against the strap of his sandal, making his toes burn. His vision was obscured by his eye that was now nearly swelled shut, and a thick metallic taste filled his mouth.  _I have to do something._  He reminded himself. He stood up, shakily, but crashed back to the ground when the pain in his foot overwhelmed his every thought and once again closed his vision into a narrow blurry circle. He felt a soft weight trying to lift him and recognized the familiar snorting and chirping of his devoted companion. He looked up, gazing past Pegasus to see why the Titans hadn't finished him off while he was helpless on the ground.  _Actually, why am I not dead?_  He pondered.

The Titans were standing over him, distressingly close, but were moving their gaze between Hades (still deep in conversation with Persephone) and their helpless prey.  _What can I even do? I can't even stand... one arm is useless. Maybe Megara was right. I should have planned this. But if this is how I die, at least I die a hero._  He concluded, and with Pegasus's help got to his feet, leaning on the equestrian for support to keep the weight off his shattered foot.

Hades dropped his head, and looked towards Hercules, then back to Persephone. He bit his lip hard enough for thin drops of blood to appear on his bottom lip. He wanted to kill that whelp. He yearned to kill him almost as much as he had yearned to entrap his brother. He was too harsh a reminder of how close to failure he had come. But if it would make his dearest Persephone happy...

"Okay okay fine. But  _you_  tell him he better leave," He whispered harshly, feeling embarassed that Demeter was witnessing his moment of weakness. "He'll want to fight just convince him he's already lost. Tell him to go home," Hades waved his hand, flopping back into his throne feeling the full effect of the third drink but wasted no time in producing a forth while he watched his wife walk away from him, and Demeter taking advantage of the cessation in conversation to start a new argument with him.

Persephone approached the battered Hercules, frowning as she saw the state the poor boy was in. The fight with the Cyclops had evidently not gone well. She was amazed at his tenacity, even with his strength stripped away this heroic boy had managed to defeat the Cyclops.  _Bright Eye may be stupid, but weak he surely isn't._  She thought to herself, remembering the old lumbering fool when he dared to toy with Odysseus, finding himself entombed with the surviving titans as punishment.

"Hercules?" She asked softly, as if she feared her voice would make his injuries worse. He looked up at her, flinching, and his hand was instantly at the sword on his hip. "Whoa whoa, calm down. I mean you no harm," She sounded like someone trying to approach a wild horse.

"I don't intend to hurt you," He replied, but the phrase sounded much more like a threat than a reassurance. His hand was still tensely wrapped around the hilt of his sword, eyes wild and dilated. "But I cannot allow this takeover of Olympus. I am here to stop Hades. Step aside," He insisted. He had no ill will against Persephone, but he also would not allow her to get in the way of rescuing his father and freeing the cosmos from Hades's grip.

"Hercules you need to go home. Hades has won. You lack your strength. You took over Bright Eye, but  _look_ at you. Do you really think you can take on four more Titans plus a god in your condition? Please. Hades has promised to do you no harm if you just go home," She was pleading with him, Hercules could see it in her eyes. It was the same pleading expression Megara had given him before flying towards Olympus.  _No one believes in me. I beat the Cyclops without my strength, but no one believes I can do this._

"I'm here to free you. Free my family. Free my father," Hercules scowled, feeling bitter.

"I know, Hercules. I know. But this is a battle you can't win. Being a hero doesn't mean killing yourself to prove a point. You beat the  _Cyclops_  as a _mortal._  Even Hades was impressed. Pissed," she shrugged, "but impressed. Go back to Phil, Go back to your mortal parents. Go back to that mortal girl who almost killed herself to save you. Don't make her actions be in vain," Persephone pleaded,

"If I save everyone, everything, then it  _won't_  be in vain! I can't just sit by and let this happen!" His eyes were burning as tears mounted on his eye lashes.  _What kind of hero am I if I fall short when the world needs me most?_

 _"_ _Hercules_. Face it. You can't win. Fighting just to fight and getting yourself killed  _will_  be in vain. Go home. Think on it.  _Make a plan_ " She suggested urgently. She hadn't yet decided whom she wanted to side with. Hades, and whichever new future he held, or the status quo. But she knew she didn't want to see this rare example of true heroism kill himself for a lost cause just to prove he died fighting. "A hero doesn't fight a losing battle just to fight it. Go home. Rest. Heal," She insisted. Hercules contemplated her words. Simply giving her words serious thought made him feel craven.  _Were Phil and Megara right? Was I just fighting to say I fought?_

 _"I'm a Hero._ " He insisted. "Greece. Gee. The whole  _Cosmos,_ "

" _Need_ _s_ _you!_ " Persephone bellowed, her soft tone giving way to anger. "You aren't here for anyone but yourself. You want to feel proud, feel like a hero, you want to die in combat. That doesn't make you a hero. Recognizing a fight you  _cannot_  win, and turning away so you can continue to protect those that need you makes you a hero!" She grasped his bad shoulder, ignoring his gasp of pain, hoping to jar him into realizing he was in no state for this suicidal mission. "Don't kill yourself just so you can say you weren't too scared. Go. Home." She demanded.

Hercules looked up at Pegasus, who was nodding emphatically.  _No one believes in me..._  He thought sadly. He knew himself he couldn't do it. But he wished everyone else did. But Persephone. She was right. He wasn't here with any thought of winning. He just didn't want to be branded a coward for running. But she was right. He hated himself for admitting it. But she was right. After standing in several awkward moments of silence fighting an internal battle, Hercules pulled himself onto Pegasus and vanished below the clouds. With the son of Zeus out of sight Persephone rejoined her husband, still in a heated argument with her mother. She sat in her throne beside Hades, reached over, and grabbed Hades's glowing drink and downing it quickly.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hades is far from my strongest character, so I hope this was still satisfying to read.


	17. Snow White, Rating: T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ff.net user BrinBrin: "What if Snow White fall in love to another Prince after she married with Prince Ferdinand (yeah, i call him that).She is 14, still a teenager. You know what teenagers think about love.
> 
> Sorry for the short length :( I don't have the energy to look up the politics of historical Germany so I'm pretending Snow is some typical fantasy kingdom and BSing my way through it. I also apologize, I struggled with this one a bit, I hope you enjoy it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

* * *

I looked around for signs that I was followed. My personal guard were a crafty bunch, but I was craftier. I had picked up a skill or two (other than cleaning and cooking) during my time with the dwarfs. They were away in the mines at this hour, so it left the perfect place to meet.

Four years into my marriage. I wished I could go back in time and tell myself not to marry the first prince to cross my path. I felt foolish in hindsight, marrying a boy I didn't know. To make it worse a boy who had kissed her while unconscious. Everyone called it "true love's kiss" but I was a child. He was a child. What did we know about love? Ferdinand's father was furious of course, that he forsake his prior betrothed for a girl no one knew anything about. At least until my parentage was discovered, then our wedding was hailed across the lands as one of the greatest royal marriages in a century.

It was for the sake of my people I felt guilty about my affair. But I just couldn't continue to pretend to be happy. I heard the sound of someone approaching and ducked inside the cabin, sure to stay out of sight of the window. I heard a specific knock on the door and knew that it was Daniel. A smile tugged at my lips and I went to the door. A part of me felt like a child again, having a secret knock. I opened the door quickly and got caught in his embrace before I could take my hand off the doorknob.

Like myself, Daniel had been married at a young age and craved genuine love. Politically motivated he could hardly even speak to his bride, for she spoke a language he did not. A proper lass, she spent most of her time in the company of her handmaids working on needlepoint. The little time they spent together was vainly attempting to produce a son. But in six years she had yet to conceive. Daniel wanted a wife with whom he could enjoy her company, who could bear him a son to carry on his name. But our affair could never yield what we both craved most. So we were relegated to meeting in secret.

I had met Daniel one day during a grand ball. The king was celebrating the birth of his youngest daughter, Ferdinand's third sister. The queen was thirty years his junior, and of childbearing age. Ferdinand was off talking to men of his cabinet, enjoying a mead with them while I sat with the other women. A young man approached and asked for a dance. My kingdom did not consider it inappropriate for a married woman to dance with another man, in fact it could give rise for conversational topics amongst the men which could lead to tactical political talk. The women of court were often seen as such pawns. It was belittling, but gave me something to do at these parties other than watch Ferdinand prattle on in the corner.

 _"_ _I am Daniel, it is lovely to meet you my dear,_ "  _I was glad he chose not to bore me by bragging about his titles and stations. Meeting so many people at these balls I could never remember one person from another, with the exception of the members of my own court. Most of the political squabbling was left to the men therefor it was not information I found relevant to memorize. I suppose this made me irresponsible, with Ferdinand being next in line for his father's throne, but that was what we had political advisors for._

_"Snow White," I replied, introducing myself. No need to give him my station. My step-mother's actions against me were nearly legend. As was my retaliation. At my wedding she was given white-hot iron shoes in which to dance. I had thought the vile woman dead when she fell from a cliff but somehow the witch survived. None should have the power of immortality, and the kingdom lived in fear of her. So we put her in her place, to show the kingdom they would be safe and could trust their leaders._

_We danced a waltz, and retired to the buffet table to continue our conversation. Daniel was pleasantly pleased to learn that I loved to hunt._ _We sat together, discussing hunting for much of the party._ _Ferdinand was lost in his own talks, leaving me free to talk the night away. It was a slip that led to Daniel admitting he was not in love with his wife, and that he couldn't even talk to her._

_"Just makes me feel a bit lonely. I have no one to actually talk to. My advisers are just advisers, my wife can't speak my language, the men of my court are too busy kissing my ass to have a real conversation with me. Even the men I hunt with waste the whole time telling me what a great hunter I am, before I fire a single arrow," He explained, and I smiled at him._

_"I can relate to that," I felt the same. The women of the court were to afraid of me after how I punished my step-mother. With Ferdinand as first in line to his throne_ _I was in a position of power. Everyone was afraid to get on your bad side. No one was genuine. It led to a very lonely life. I at least had the Dwarfs to visit, as I had their land declared protected, but I could only steal way to visit them so often. The stagnation of a marriage to a man who I hardly knew at the time of my vows._

_"Daniel,"_ I smiled.

"Snow," It was so nice not to be addressed with fancy titles. I showed him to my old attic room and we collapsed onto the bed that was far more familiar and comfortable than the lavish palace in which I lived now. We made love urgently, it had been an agonizing two months since we were both able to steal away. We took great caution that I would not return to Ferdinand carrying another man's child. I wished I could bear Daniel's son. I didn't want my stagnant life. I was a spoiled child, until my step-mother drove me away. But when I lived the humble life amongst the dwarfs I learned humility, and appreciation. I enjoyed everything more because I worked for it. Returning to a life of luxury seemed like a fantasy, until I lived it.

Every day was boring, the same old grind. Wake up, be fussed over by my hand maids. Take a hot bath, regardless of weather. My hair pulled and prodded into whatever style was popular that month, my clothes picked for me, my daily schedule made for me. Many of my days spent sitting doing needlepoint with the other women. I had wished to join Ferdinand in his political meetings, so I could learn things about ruling a kingdom for when I would become queen. It would have given us common ground on which our marriage could have blossomed. But rather we led separate lives, had little to say to each other.

That is what attracted me to Daniel. He would  _talk_  to me. We could talk for hours. About hunting, food, dancing, horseback riding, stories, music. I could be lost for hours in conversation with him. And so we talked. We talked for hours, both losing track of the time. I saw the sun kissing the horizon through the western window and frowned. He would have to depart soon. I couldn't, I  _wouldn't_  return to my life. I just couldn't bear another two months away from this man whom I had grown so fond of. I couldn't return to a man whom I had nothing to share with. To mingle with women who were not genuine. To be surrounded by an entire palace of people with ulterior motives. I wanted this. To lie next to a man I could honestly say I  _loved._  Someone with whom I could talk, lie next to, read next to, ride horses with, hunt with. A man who's company I cherished.

"It's sundown," He broke me from my reverie.

"What if we don't go back?" I cut in suddenly, surprised I wasn't able to restrain the words.

"What?!" Daniel sat up on his elbow, looking at me like I had sprouted another head.

"I can't go back. I can't take another day of the same fuss. I can't go back to spending every day thinking about you, counting down the days until you can sneak away from your duties. Another day to lie with a man who I don't love. Another day of routine, pampering, and insincerity," I explained desperately, in too deep now to stop. "We can't keep doing this Daniel. We can't keep meeting in secret and spending these rare days together in a cabin in the woods. Someone will catch on eventually, and what then?" I postulated.

"We'll cross that road when we come to it," Daniel offered. He was much more dedicated to his duty to his kingdom than I. Perhaps having the chance to meet with advisers and participating in ruling his land gave him a sense of dedication. But I had no such discipline.

"I  _can't_  keep doing this. It's killing me!" I sat up, hugging my knees. "I've only been married four years and already I want to run away from it. How can I be expected to carry on this charade for another thirty years?" I asked. "We've both already broken our wedding vows, we're in too deep. Just run away with me," I begged, feeling tears mounting on my eyelashes. I felt like a hyper-emotional impulsive child again. The same impulsive fool who married a man simply because he kissed her. Everyone believed in my fairy tale ending except for me, and Ferdinand.

"Snow... I can't walk away from my kingdom. And you can't walk away from yours. Ferdinand's father is elderly, he may have just had another child but he won't rule forever. Then the kingdom will need you, and Ferdinand," He tried to explain, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"They'll need Ferdinand. Not me. What do I even do? Sit there and look pretty while everyone talks about my fairy tale life," I replied bitterly. "I can't even seem to do what I'm meant for. I've yet to conceive a child," I added, feeling a hot blush rise to my cheeks. Admittedly much of this problem was how little time my husband spent with me. We hadn't been trying very hard to conceive, but it was dwindling my confidence more. Admitting it was even harder, what if Daniel didn't want me because I was as barren as his own wife? "He'll remarry someone, he won't even miss me. I'll just continue to be a story he can use to awe people like I am now."

"What about my kingdom? I hold an important title, I can't walk away from it. My people need me," Tears filled my eyes.

"But I can't keep doing  _this._ " I explained. "It'll lead to nothing but heartbreak or worse. Ferdinand will eventually figure out I'm not out hunting every time, your kingdom is bound to figure out the real reason you vanish every several weeks. Daniel I love you, run away with me," I repeated. He sighed, refusing to meet my gaze.

"Snow... not everything works out the way we want," He explained sadly. "I love you, and I would love for nothing more but to run away with you. But I have a responsibility,"

"You don't think there aren't one-hundred men vying for your title? You don't think another man couldn't just fill your position so you can run away with me? Our kingdoms won't miss us. The constant power struggle means there will always be someone to replace us," I avoided his gaze, but I could see he was looking at me, knitting his fingers.

"Angelina has conceived," He blurted suddenly. "I can't run away from that," he said sadly. "It's why it has been so long until I could find the right time to sneak off,"

"What?" I asked, my voice catching.

"You were right. There will always be someone to fill a position of power, my kingdom would never miss me in the end. But I will  _not_  walk away from my child. I'm sorry Snow," He sighed, running a hand through his messy black hair.

"I..." What could I even say? Beg him to abandon his unborn child now? Ask him to continue this affair when he was to be a father? I was lost for words. Daniel reached for me, pulling me into his arms,

"Shh..." he whispered, running a hand through my hair. I failed to restrain my sobs. "I'm so sorry Snow. We stayed in silence for a short time before I was able to find my voice.

"They'll be back soon... we need to leave the cabin," I suggested, realizing our parting was bitterly close. He nodded, and we both dressed quickly. We left the cabin, careful to leave no trace of our liason. We walked roughly a mile through the woods, leading our horses to a small clearing. "I..." my voice caught again. "I need to head back, they'll notice my absence if I do not return soon. They probably are already worried," I explained.

"Snow, I am so sorry. I want nothing more but to run off with you, live in some small cabin somewhere far from here. Forget about money, power, heirs, and all that. But I can't abandon my unborn child..." He pulled me into his arms, and I could feel him trembling with silent sobs.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I love you Snow," he replied. "If anything changes, I promise, I will write you. I smiled at this, and we exchanged more words and devotions before I watched him vanish into the trees. I hugged my arms, trying to control my sobs. I couldn't go back He promised to write a letter but I knew it was one that would never come. His wife with child we could never continue what we were doing. We never said it, but I knew I would never see him again. But I couldn't go back to Ferdinand.

It took me well into an hour before I was able to settle myself. I grabbed my horse's reigns and carefully removed them, they were far too lavish, they would gave away my station. I knew there was a small farmhouse five kilometers south of the dwarf's cabin. If I could sneak in I could steal a set of peasant clothes. I had a bag of gold on me, I would leave it as payment. Disguised as a peasant I could follow the Southern road as far as it would take me. Follow it until I was well beyond the influence of my kingdom, away from my station, away from my loveless marriage. They would surely search for me, but I had managed to stay hidden from my step-mother for many months. I could hide from the fools of my kingdom. I mounted my horse, grasping his mane, and began to travel south.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was far from my best work, I really did try. But I just struggled with this one for some reason. I couldn't seem to get personalities down. I don't think Snow would retain her innocence after living a stagnant posh life and started to slip into the grips of depression. Maybe I'll revisit this at some point and try to do it better justice. But for now, I apologize for the poor quality work on this one.


	18. Cinderella, Rating: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ff.net user Pedro_IS_Madi12: What if Cinderella never lost her shoe at the ball?
> 
> I haven't seen Cinderella in a LONG time, so I hope I'm sufficient at keeping people in character. This story took me a long time to write because I couldn't figure out where I wanted to go with it for the longest time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

"Cinderella!" Ella heard the mock-version of her name called through the house. Her eyes opened and a harsh throb coursed through her head, settling behind her eyes and staying there. She had arrived home from the ball at half-past midnight, and it was at least another hour before she was able to cover her own tracks and sneak up into bed. Now it was hardly dawn and she was being roused to begin the morning chores.

She thought about how liberating it had been to defy her stepmother. To go to the ball despite being told not to. To run away from this prison. To, for once, make her own decision. The fierce headache she was enduring as a result her actions was worth it. She let her step-mother screech her name again, trying to relish in the memories of that magical night. But the sound of her step mother coming up the stair, stomping in an exaggerated manner to telegraph her rising anger, was enough to finally force her to face the day.

"Coming!" Ella shouted back reluctantly. She rolled out of bed and stretched, her body protesting getting up after so little sleep. This would be one long day of chores.  _But maybe it can be my last._ A thought struck her. She shook her head, it was nonsense. What could a girl like her accomplish on her own? Running away for a night was one thing, trying to survive on her own was another. She got to the attic door just as her stepmother was about to tear it off the hinges and stared the elderly woman down. "Yes?" She asked,

"Drop that tone child before I slap it out of you," The woman snarled it reply. Ella nodded, dropping her gaze, remembering why she never defied the woman before.

"Sorry. What do you need?" She asked meekly, daring a glance at her stepmother, seeing a triumphant smile crossing the woman's features.

"Start the kettle, I wish to soak my feet. A night at the ball has left them swollen. And don't forget the epsom salts child. Then prepare some hot water for my daughters, they too need to soak their feet after a night at the ball," Ella nodded, and watched as her step mother moved down the stairs with such speed she wondered how she had never fallen down them. Ella quickly dressed, pulled her hair back into a loose ribbon, and made her own way down the steep stair. Walking past the bedrooms of her stepmother and sisters she bit her lip to keep from muttering under her breath.

While she waited for the kettle of water to heat she occupied her mind reflecting on the ball. The feel of a new, clean, silken dress upon her skin. The pain of the glass slippers on her feet. The smell of foods and wines, of a room full of people, of the perfumes of the rich and the sharp odor of the less fortunate who were still invited to the ball. How shiny the floor had looked, the elaborate marbling of the pillars holding up tapestries depicting various victorious battles of the kingdom. It was if she was there again, the memory so visit as to cause her pain with longing.

But most acutely, she remembered the prince. His skin was flawless, and she remembered the smooth skin of his hands. The boy had never worked a day in his life, but his muscles bragged of the fencing and sword training he had, though she knew the kingdom would never risk their prince in actual battle. She remembered how he smelled, and a smile pulled at her lips. She wondered how they felt, how his kiss would taste. She wondered what the full strength of his embrace would feel like. She remembered his voice, deep and smooth. She longed to hear it again, though she new it was a vain wish.

The sudden screeching of the kettle tore her from her reverie, and she cursed under her breath. She wasn't supposed to allow the water to come to a full boil. She pulled it off the hearth quickly, using her apron to protect her hands. But the damage had been done, and her step-mother's voice cut through the mostly empty house to curse her for being a 'foolish child'. Ella groaned under her breath, and once again allowed herself to contemplate giving in to impulse and leaving this place.

Ella added some cold water to the boiling kettle to cool it before fetching the epsom salts. Carrying those two items in one hand she gathered three basins with the other before steeling her courage to face what she viewed as her captors. The container of the epsom felt low, and wondered if she could convince her step-mother going to market was necessary to restock on certain necessities. This would at least allow her to pretend to live out her fantasy of escape.

"Took long enough," Her stepmother drawled. Ella fought the urge to roll her eyes and placed three basins on the floor before the seats of her step relatives pouring in what remained of the epsom, and filled the basins with hot water. A part of her hoped she hadn't cooled the water enough to prevent a burn.  _Since when have I even dared to think these things?_ Ella chided herself.

"Sorry," She apologized, dodging eye contact for fear the woman would be able to read her thoughts. Her step mother always seemed to have a supernatural ability to know what Ella was thinking.

"Cinderella," Anastasia snapped, "This is too cold," Ella bit her lip and nodded, trying to look cooperative.

"I'll put the kettle back on the fire,"

"Well mine is too cold," Drizella insisted.

"Then I shall fetch some cold water for you too,"

"Cinderlla," her stepmother snarled, and it took all of Ella's self control not to throw the kettle at the trio,

"Yes?"

"That tone, Cinderella. What have I told you about that tone?" Stepmother chided, and for a moment Ella feared the woman actually would live up to her threat to 'slap it out' of her.

"Sorry," She apologized, trying her best to sound genuine.

"Mine needs more salt Cinderella," The woman liked to throw the mock-name around. Knowing it was something Ella hated being called.  _You would think after five years of this I'd be used to the name._  She thought to herself. But she took her step mother's complaint as her opportunity to suggest going to market.

"I used the last of it. Once I fetch more cool and hot water I can go to market to gather more," She tried to pose it as a statement not a question, hoping to make it sound more like her step mother's idea.

"Mmm... yes." came a mumbled reply. "After breakfast you will go to market. You will return before lunch. Understood?" Ella nodded, and excused herself to gather the water to adjust the basin temperatures for her picky step-sisters that she was convinced only complained to make her go do more work.

With water temperatures adjusted, breakfast made, and her spoiled step-family fed and seemingly content she was given a small amount of money to go to market to gather a list of necessities her step-mother provided. She left through the front door and sighed, leaning against the door whispering a small prayer for the strength to continue enduring.  _Perhaps one blissful night of freedom was the worst thing to ever happen to me._ She felt a tickle on her feet and looked down to see her rodent friends emerging from their hiding places.

"Well hello friends,"  _At least someone is listening,_  She thought to herself as she was reminded of what in her home was capable of giving her happiness and she felt much of her agitation beginning to ebb. "I'm off to market," She knelt down to them and put a finger to her lips, "I'll be sure to get you guys a nice treat, okay?" She smiled as they scurried off. She was the only one to ever go to market, so lying about the cost of various items was the only way Ella was able to get her hands on some spending cash for herself.

Ella sat on the edge of her bed at the end of the long emotionally taxing day. Her step-family had been so demanding of her she wasn't given a moment to herself. She pulled from her pocket a pair of scones she had purchased for her mouse friends while at the market,

"I'm sorry I took so long to give you guys your little gift," She said quietly, her voice drawing out the various mice. She broke the scones into various pieces and set them onto the floor. They all gathered around the scones and ate heartily.  _If I left, how would I bring all of them with me? What would they do without me?_  She thought to herself. Perhaps leaving this wretched place was not an actual option. She had nowhere to go, she couldn't abandon her little friends, nor could she take them with her.

Or could she? Who said she had to live in a large house with others. What if she found work and got a small cottage in the woods, a place where she could be utterly alone. She could take her little mice with her. She wouldn't have her abusive family to contend with. She didn't need to be a princess in a castle. She didn't need to woo a prince, a man she had met once. Y _et I can't stop thinking about him..._   _N_ _o. He's just a fantasy._ Realistically she understood being the mysterious woman to show up at the ball, finally catching the heart of the prince who was known throughout the kingdom for rejecting every woman who came to call, was something left to fairty tales. But maybe it was the push she desperately needed.

"What would father think of me?" She sighed. "He married that woman because he thought her money would give us a better life. He never wanted this for me. He wanted me to be happy. He'd want me to leave this," She said aloud, her mice friends squeaking and gesturing in agreement. "But I'm a woman. How can I get a place of my own? Would someone hire a girl my age with no working experience?" She continued. She flopped onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. "What should I do? Father... send me a sign,"

A month had passed, Ella continuing to fight with herself. As she debated her actions she grew more bitter about her current situation. She stopped communicating with her step-family, enduring their orders and abuse in silence. She found herself withdrawing more and more often into the fantasies of her own mind. The idea of her own place, her only company her mice, was becoming an obsession. She had let go of her fantasies about a picky prince and giant palaces after the prince had announced his engagement to a name she couldn't recall. Probably a politically motivated arranged marriage forced upon the boy after taking too long to find his own bride.

"I need to leave," She has been fighting with herself since finishing her chores an after after sunset, a fight she had been having with herself over the passing month. But tensions with the women she refused to acknowledge as family had reached a peak. Stepmother had struck her, Anastasia and Drizella kicking her while she was down. "I want you to come with me," She said, looking down to her mice. "You can all fit in a wicker basked. I'll steal Anastasia's bike," She had recited this plan many times during the last several days, and recited it again to ensure she knew exactly what to do. "I've saved enough money,"  _from lying about prices and simply stealing from stepmother,_ "to rent an inn for a while. Long enough to find a job. But I need you guys to behave. If they find my room filled with mice, they'll assume I'm messy and kick me out," She explained, getting a lot of crossed paws and narrowed brows. "Don't look at me like that. You know how other people look at mice," She defended. "I can cook, I can clean, I can sew. Someone is bound to hire me for that,"

Ella stood, her bag at the edge of her bed having been packed for a week. Her aforementioned wicker basket was there as well, lined with a thin sheet. She had set a bundle of food next to the basket, having raided the kitchen an hour prior. She glanced out the window, and saw the stars beginning to dim in the pre-dawn hours. She slid off the bed, placing the basket on it's side and urging her mice inside. They ran in, trusting in their human friend. She gathered her bag, the basket, and her small satchel of food and snuck out of the house.

Anastasia's bike was in the back of the home. The bike was tall enough for Ella to sit upon comfortably, The basket on the handlebars was large enough to put the wicker basket with the mice. She managed to stuff the satchel of food into her other bag, slinging it over to her back. The bike was difficult to move, the chain rusting from neglect. But after several minutes of forceful peddling, the ride became easier. Without a backwards glance Ella rode the bike towards town, having no intention of stopping there, but seeing what would await her in a town as far as her legs would carry her.


	19. Cinderella, Rating: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ff.net user Retro Mania: What would Drizella or Anastasia's version of Bippity-Boppity-Boo and the transformation been like? (paraphrased)
> 
> Not gonna lie, I am not a songwriter. I will not successfully write another entertaining gibberish song so I just made up some gibberish. It doesn't work... I'm sorry I tried but I just don't write songs it's not my forte.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

* * *

Anastasia walked along the crowded cobbled street, brushing against the crowd as she fought her way to the bookshop. She heard rumors that her step-sister Cinderella had written a memoir.  _Ella. Her real name is Ella._ She reminded herself sharply, knowing no one would take kindly to the derogatory nickname her family gave to the young woman who was now their Princess.

The bookshop was at the end of the road, a small stone building with a broken white fence likely vandalized by some local children one night. She placed a hand on the door and pushed, a gentle bell ringing as she entered. The inside felt claustrophobic; the walls were lined with bookshelves and stacks of books, the air was thick with dust and the smell of resin and old paper.

"Can I help you miss?" Anastasia turned to see an elderly man addressing her. His eyes magnified by a large pair of glasses nearly as thick as a milk bottle's bottom. Tufts of grey hair lined the sides of his head, with a few wispy white hairs covering the otherwise bald top of his head. He was nearly a head taller than her, and looked as if he weighed ten kilograms less.

"Yes!" She answered loudly, straitening up. "I am looking for the new book, the memoir by... Princess... Ella," She tried to make herself seem more confident than she was, glad she remembered to use the correct name, though she could just imagine how her mother or sister would react had they heard her being  _polite_  about her step-sister, fake or not.

"Popular book..." The man grunted, walking to the counter to drop his burden and vanished behind another stack of tomes. He returned holding a leather bound book that looked far too new and clean to be in such a cluttered store.

"Thank you," She followed him over to the counter and rifled through her purse for the money to pay for the book. She handed him a couple of faded coins and bid him good day before departing. Knowing how her family would react if they caught her with the book she continued down the main road until she felt she was far enough from the town to read it without word getting back.

She opened it, seeing a dedication to her  _beloved_  Prince on the first page, gushing about his love and support. Anasthasia wanted to be angry at it, to mock the silly word, insult the impulsive way Cinderella  _Ella!_  Ran off with a man she maybe shared an hour of time with. But truth was she envied her. She was the pretty one, the talented one, the one with the beautiful voice. Of course  _she_  would be the one the Prince would swoon over.

She read the first chapter. Then the second. She flipped through the pages, straining her eyes against the dimming light as the sun began to set.  _Were we really this horrible to her?_ She thought to herself. She would be the first to admit they weren't exactly  _kind_  to the young woman, but until she had her own actions laid out before her did she realize how terrible of a person she really was.

"No wonder I have no friends and can't meet a man," She complained, pouting. A strong pang of guilt pushed her to keep reading. She flipped between a sense of heavy guilt at her own actions, and anger that her step-sister must have exaggerated how terrible her family was.  _We're going to become town pariahs!_

As she read her guilt and anger began to fade into a fantasy about her own escape from her mundane life. She imagine herself crying outside by the fountain, left alone by her family in a tattered dress when her own fairy god mother would appear.

* * *

"Well now child, we cannot be having this," a gentle voice pulled her from her tears. Anastasia turned to see a short, rather plump, smiling woman standing behind her wearing green robes and a purple bonnet that clashed spectacularly, and a bright yellow ribbon around her thick middle, tufts of untidy red hair were poking out of the bonnet, and what looked like a thin white stick poking out from behind one of her ears. "Why are you crying my dear?"

Anastasia gave a loud wet sniffle, running the back of her hand under her nose childishly as she sobbed out her story of an overbearing mother, winy sister, and horrible step-sister. She gestured to her dress, an old hand-me-down grey rag she had struggled to sew together just to have it torn apart by those who were supposed to be her family.

"Oh come now, stop that crying. We can fix this,"

"Who are you?" Anastasia asked, narrowing her eyes at the woman.

"Why, I'm your fairy godmother!" She proclaimed proudly, throwing her arms out and giving a twirl, her purple skirts billowing around her.

"Fairy... godmother..." the young woman repeated skeptically, taking a step back. If she had ever imagined a fairy version of her mother, this certainly wasn't it. She couldn't have been a bigger constrast to her tall, thin, and proper mother.

"Yes dear. Oh don't give me that look, here," She began to rifle through her thick layers, pouting and huffing at each empty pocket.

"Uhh..." Anastasia mumbled, pointing, "Is that what you're looking for?" She asked, pointing to the woman's ear. Fairy Godmother flustered, and began to pat at her head and pulled out the white stick from behind her ear,

"There you are! Naughty wand!" She waggled a finger at it. "Now, what do you say we get you ready for the ball?" She asked,

"How did you know that's where I wanted to be?"

"Why I'm your fairy godmother! It's my  _job_  to know these things dear! Now what kind of fairy godmother would I be if I didn't know which wish to grant? Come now child, let's see..." She rubbed under her chin with the tip of the wand,

 _Salagadoola mechicka Hibbly-Wibbly-tee_  
Put 'em together and what have you got  
Hibbly-wibbly-tee

 _Salagadoola mechicka boola Hibbly-wibbly-tee_  
It'll do magic believe it or not  
Hibbly-wibbly-tee

 _Salagadoola means mechicka booleroo_  
But the thingmabob that does the job is  
Hibbly-wibbly-tee

 _Salagadoola menchicka boola Hibbly-wibbly-tee_  
Put 'em together and what have you got  
Hibbly-wibbly-hibbly-wibbly-wibbly tippity tee

Anastasia's loose fitting gray frock began to shift, suddenly the fabric felt softer, and despite feeling tighter it was somehow more comfortable. They gray gave way to a delicate pink, so pale it almost looked white at first glance. She felt her hair begin to curl and pull away from her neck, a pink ribbon winding around to hold it in place. Pale pink gloves slithered over her hands, fitting so well she may have dipped her hands in melted wax. She gave a twirl, watching the dress billow around her. In her wildest fantasies she had never dreamed she could have a dress so beautiful,

 _"_ It... it's beautiful," Her voice lacked it's usual harsh edge and loud tone. "Thank you," She turned, looking at her fairy godmother with tears in her eyes. "Why are you doing this for me?"

 _"_ Tut-tut we've covered that! I'm your fairy godmother! It's what I do!" She smiled broadly, taking in Anastasia's appearance. She looked vastly different from the crying woman she found. She had erased the dark circles around her eye the weeping had caused. Her eyes were lined with brown eyeliner, and a shadow hardly darker than her skin tone. The makeup blended with her own features so well it looked like she wasn't wearing any at all, exaggerating her natural beauty and bringing out her best feature: her eyes. "Now now, how to get to the ball," Fairy Godmother looked around her, and saw a melon patch, a few cows, and a barn cat yowling not far away as it pawed at a haystack that surely hid some mice. "Ah-hah!" She announced, and waved her wand,

A heavy melon rolled away from the patch, dragging with it vines and roots leaving a trail of dirt behind it that Anastasia knew would drive her mother insane upon her return from the ball _Good. Let her be angry. Should teach her not to treat her own daughter this way!_  The melon grew, the green darkening into a shimmering emerald color, the stripes twirling into adornments. The vines curled back on themselves into wheels and a driver's perch. The roots extended, reaching out into the pasture and capturing two cows who began to moo furiously. Fairy Godmother tutted at them to calm, and before her eyes the cows thinned out into tall elegant spotted horses. The roots harnessed them to the newly formed chariot and began to calm with a wave of the magic wand. Their manes and tails were thick ebony-black hair, with dark spots to match against ivory white fur. The yowling cat was now dragged over by what seemed to be glowing and sparking air, it's gangly legs extending into feet, ears turning to the sides of it's head as forepaws extended into fingers. The cat had transformed into a hansom young man and was seated on the driver's perch, the reigns landed in his hands as the confused and frightened expression gave way to one of calm knowledge.

"There we are!" Fairy Godmother announced proudly, putting her hands on her hips as she examined her work. "I think the pale pink goes perfectly with that beautiful red hair of yours!" The emerald-green chariot would surely draw attention, and then everyone at the ball could see Anastasia's beauty and hopefully draw the attention of the Prince. The elegant horses patiently sat as their driver calmly held the reigns. "Something is missing," she rubbed the bottom of her chin with the wand again, scratching at the side of her head under the bonnet.

"Oh!" Anastasia exclaimed, realizing her feet here feeling rather cold. She held up the hem of her gown, holding out her oversized feet with her awkwardly long toes. She was worried her fairy godmother would not be able to give her shoes that fit. They had always been the source of much teasing from her peers, and jeering and criticism from her own mother.

"Oh! Of course! How silly of me!" She twirled her wand again, and like the perfectly fitting gloves deep black material snaked around her feet like second skin. The material was hard and cool, yet felt more comfortable than any shoe she had ever worn. "Now most people would want something white, or pink, to go with that gown. But I think a nice pair of obsidian slippers would be much nicer! They stand out. Besides, who else there would have volcanic glass slippers? You'll be the most envied woman there!" she clapped her hands excitedly. Anastasia had to admit, they were very flattering slippers. While mostly covered by the gown when standing still, they became obvious as she twirled. The black slimmed her feet, hiding how unusually large they were and making her feel more confident in herself. "Now child, listen carefully. This magic only lasts 'till midnight. I may be pretty fantastic, but even I have my limits. But I have no doubt you'll capture the Prince's heart at once! Now, off to the ball, hurry!"

With tears in her eyes Anastasia embraced the odd woman, sniffling thickly and trying to compose herself so she wouldn't smudge the makeup Fairy Godmother had applied magically. She gathered herself into the carriage, hurried off with waves and cheers.

* * *

Anastasia imagined a nice of dancing, champagne, and enjoyment. She imagined the fun of the ball without the overbearing presence of her mother, the bliss of falling in love at first sight, the dream of being admired for her obsidian slippers that would even put Cinderella's  _Ella's!_ glass slippers to shame. She sighed, forcing herself out of her fantasy to face reality. She looked down at her oversized feet, her dress that look quite plain compared to what she was just imagining.

Then she remembered what Ella's dress had looked like prior to it being torn asunder. It was quite beautiful, and she had put it together from scraps and discarded belongings.  _I'll learn to sew! I'll make my own fantasy come true. I don't need a fairy godmother._  She thought to herself. She could probably even fashion herself a set of black slippers. They wouldn't be the skin-like obsidian slippers from her imaginings, but if she got good enough perhaps they would still make her feel better in her own skin. She looked down at the book, and smirked at it. "What mother doesn't know can't hurt her," She tucked the book under her arm and began to head home.

From the trees, a short plump woman in a green dress held in place with a yellow ribbon adjusted her purple bonnet, and smiled.


	20. Sleeping Beauty, Rating: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ff.net user MorbidMavis145: What if Malefiscent had been invited to the Christening?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

* * *

Malefiscent looked up at the large oaken doors ordained with the royal family crest as the guards pulled them open reluctantly. They had been skeptical when she had first showed up demanding to be let in, telling them she had been invited. Even showing them the invitation failed to sway them. It wasn't until she threatened to simply appear in the great hall and tell the King and Queen how rude she found it that she would be invited only to be turned away at the gate.

She moved through the doors and was escorted to the great hall by another guard inside the doors. The room was milling with movement; the air thick with the smell of food, wine, mead, and people. She moved into the room, finding wherever she moved to the people nearby would cease their converstations and stare at her, causing a bubble if silence to follow wherever she went.

"What are  _you_  doing here?" A voice chided from her left, and she spun to see the three "Good Fairies" fluttering so they were at eyelevel with her. Malefiscent rolled her eyes at them, holding up her invitation,

"King Stefan invited me," She sigh. She had never quite liked these three. Combined they could hardly compare their magic to her own power, yet lorded their titles over her. "Now fly away before I saw you," She added with a quiet hiss. She had no intention of causing a scene; though if these three forced her hand far be it from her to avoid having a little fun. "Now I must go pay my respects, and give the little brat her gift,"

"What  _curse_  are you intending to give the poor dear? She's just a baby!" The one in blue,  _Merrywether_  the name came to Malefiscent after several moments, had fluttered before her to block her path.

"Always so desperate to be the little heroes deserving of being known as the Kingdom's  _Good Fa_ _i_ _ries_  that you accuse me of malfeasance without knowing my intent?" She replied, holding a hand over her heart as she intentionally mocked her own name as the fairies were so keen to do. "Now leave me," She waved her off and tried to move past her when Merrywether blocked her path again. "Yes?" She groaned impatiently,

"Why would the king invite  _you_?" She asked, showing the same degree if ignorance as the door guards. Maleficent was growing impatient, wanting to just do her obligatory meet with the king, give the tiny brat her gift, and return to her secluded tower. This party was far too...  _social..._  for her liking. She was also growing agitated at the trio not showing due respect to the most powerful of the Fae.

"Ask him yourself," She snarled, beginning to lose the grip on her temple. "I have told you I was invited," She held up her invitation, suppressing the urge to strike the obnoxious fairy with it, and tucked it back into her robes. "I wish to greet the king, and give my gift, then I will spare you the burden of my company," she continued. Merrywether looked as if to continue the argument, but luckily her companions seemed to contain more sense than her and pulled the blue fairy away begging her to see reason. "Listen to your friends,  _Merrywether._  At least  _they_  seem to have some respect," She left the grunting and sputtering source of annoyance behind, and tried to pretend she didn't notice the large volume of far-too-curious onlookers.

A server approached her with a tray of wine goblets, his eyes downcast as he approached her to offer her some wine. Maleficent couldn't help but smirk.  _Finally. Someone who recognizes my power._ She thanked the stuttering boy as she took a goblet, and continued her march towards where King Stefan stood with Queen Leah over the cradle containing the princess, who was named Aurora according to the invitation. Both stiffened as she approached, but visibly relaxed as she gave a curt bow.

"Your Graces," she addressed. They each offered their left hand, which she kissed in turn. Her eyes gleamed over the cradle, seeing a small sleepy infant swaddled in blankets. "My gift," She stated, and reached into her robes. She pulled out a wand, which again caused the royal couple to stiffen and she saw Stefan's hand twitch as if to stop her but had the sense to restrain himself. "I give her the gift of voice. May she always have the words to sway those around her," a fitting gift for the future Queen. And a gift to ensure no man would hold all power over her, that she would have the voice to command the respect she would deserve. She just hoped the whelp would grow into a ruler deserving of this gift.  _I suppose I'll have to peek in on this... child... from time to time._ Stefan and Leah were good rulers, she admitted to herself bitterly. Hopefully this Aurora would be too.

"Thank you," Stefan said, clearly surprised that Maleficent had given his daughter a beneficial gift.

"A wonderful gift, thank you, Maleficent" Leah echoed her husband. They both bowed their heads to her, their tension easing and a smile pulled at their faces.

"Raise her right, so I don't regret giving her this gift," she replied, and despite the implied threat the royals smiled again and she turned from the cradle. Once away from earshot she saw the three Good Fairies flutter quickly to the King and Queen, clearly concerned Maleficent had forsaken her word to them and cursed the child. She rolled her eyes, and gave serious considerationg to placing a curse on Merrywether at least.  _Just a small one. Nothing serious._ She began to roll several options through her head. Nothing fatal. Maybe she would grow a beard that wouldn't go away until she apologized. She would turn a delightful shade of yellow whenever the sun was up for the next full moon cycle. Perhaps she would have the uncontrollable urge to sing anything she wanted to say. Maleficent smirked, but forced herself to suppress these urges. Afterall, it  _was_  a party. And Stefan had done her the courtesy of inviting the strongest of the Fae. The least she could do was leave his guests molested.

She turned, looking up where the cradle was and honed her focus on their words so she could hear what gifts these Good Fairies were giving the child. The gift of beauty, the gift of song, and to her surprise Merrywether was the only one to give the child a sensible gift. The gift of Judgment. She would be gifted with being a good judge of character, sensing when others wished her harm. She had a feeling the gift was directed as a way for the child mistrust Maleficent, but she still had to admit Merrywether wasn't just trying to make the future Queen a pretty piece of jewelery for her future husband to tote around like the gifts of  _beauty_ and  _song._ Judgement, like Voice, were traits a Queen would  _need_.

She turned from the dias and head towards the great oaken doors, knowing none would appreciate her continued presence. While the thought of burdening them with herself, she loathed them as much as they her.

"Don't abuse my gift Princess, I'll be watching you," She mumbled, and departed.

 


	21. Pocahontas, Rating: T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ff.net user Sunrise19: What if, after John Smith leaves in the end of Pocahontas she discovers she's pregnant? Would he be back in order to meet his son or daughter? Would they be able to become a family?
> 
> I don't know a lot about the Powhatan culture (the Native American tribe Pocahontas hailed from and that Disney pretty much insulted with the movie) but tentative research seems to show that unlike the European invaders, sex was not a horrifying taboo. Also the Powhatan's in the 1700s did not have written language. However, I would appreciate any corrections if people with more knowledge of the subject come along. I do always try to treat cultures with respect in my writing, and I hope I do well here. "Anoki" is a name I will admit I chose mostly at random. All I know is the name is Algonquin, I had a lot of trouble pinning down a 1700s Virigina Powhatan name so I had to make do with what I could find.
> 
> On the subject: This is going to follow Disney canon. Not the historical figure the movie butchered. So, yeah. This story is a nut-punch to history.
> 
> I haven't seen this movie in over a decade... I am very sorry if Pocahontas is out of character... but please tell me if she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

* * *

Pocahontas had questioned the test twice.  _It's impossible_. She thought to herself, worrying her bottom lip. She ran a hand through her hand, demanding the woman say again that she was absolutely positive. That there was no chance for error.  _Not that I think there can be one at this point. For all the signs are there._

"Pocahontas, you are pregnant" Every foul word the young woman knew flurried out of her mouth, leaving the woman with her mouth agape, staring at the chief's daughter in horror, chiding her for such language. But Pocahontas had much more on her mind than watching her tongue to play her role.

 _Do I tell John? How... how do I even send him news?_  She pondered. She had learned to speak his tongue, by the grace of the spirits; and he hers as well. But this did not mean she knew how to translate his words into paper. She knew his language came with symbols drawn on paper that translated into the same sounds. But her people had no such thing. They told their histories with stories, art, songs, celebrations. Perhaps she could enlist the help of the settlers.  _This would mean letting them in on a very intimate matter..._  She thought to herself.  _Is it worth having to tell another man about John's c hild before I tell John? Is there any other way for me to tell him? Do I try to take the next boat back to his England? Is it really worth leaving me people behind just to tell him this news in private?_  She battled with herself, ignoring the words of the woman she was sitting with.

"Thank you," she stated, her words empty of the sentiment. She left the shelter to ponder things. How would her tribe treat a child that only carried half the blood of her own people, the other half to a people most of her tribe still considered savages. She had tried to appeal to them. She had swayed her father, many others. But not all. She wasn't sure she could handle being shunned by her own. But how could she explain this child? None of the tribe had known her intimately. It would be fast news that it was one of these white savages. She could have spent her nights with any man she pleased, and none would raise a word to her. But a single night with a savage, and now she felt her world may crumble around her.  _My luck... one night of melding my soul with another and I am with child._ She knew she should be excited she was blessed enough to be deemed worthy of bearing life. She had always wanted to be a mother, to have a family. To be like the kind gentle woman who used to make her father smile like nothing, and no one, could. And with the thought of her father, she knew what she had to do.

Pocahontas had convinced a friend to join her on the short trip to the white village. While most had seen treating her people like animals was to err from the moral path they seemed to so often quote, she felt the need for protection nonetheless. The animosity towards the 'white savages' that still existed in her own tribe left her sure than many of the white people would feel the same towards her.

"Thank you for joining me Anoki," Pocahontas stated as the village came into view. She felt unsure of herself, wondering how she was going to tell one of these white men her plight. They had no right to know about her and John's child. But her own shame was no reason to keep the child a secret from John. She had no right to deprive the man of the potential for a family. Even if the man never returned to her lands, never met this child, he had a right to know.

"I wouldn't feel right letting you come here alone. Not everyone left on friendly terms. Especially with John and most of his friends gone, they seem less motivated to follow his example," the man replied. She was glad Anoki wasn't judging her, or prying into why she wanted to send John a letter, very curious about their written language.

"As long as everyone keeps the peace," Pocahontas replied. Her father and John had worked too hard to ensure there was no pointless slaughter. When the pair first arrived at the gate they were met with skeptical glances, until they explained in English (much to the guard's surprise) that they were here to visit a friend of John Smith's, and had brought the village a gift in exchange for receiving them peacefully. They were skeptical at first, but with winter approaching the blankets they offered gained them entry, though they insisted the last one was for the man they were here to visit. The guards told them where they could find Thomas. Once at his house Pocahontas requested Anoki stay outside, that she trusted Thomas with her life, and her friend obliged.

"P-pocahontas?" Thomas stammered when he opened the door to reply to her knock,

"Good to see you Thomas," She smiled. "Can we speak in private?"

"Uh, sure, come in," He looked up at the man who had accompanied Pocahontas, giving him a friendly greeting and excusing himself as he shut the door once Pocahontas was inside. "What's going on?" He asked.

"I need your help... I want to write a letter to John. I know it will be a long time until another boat comes here then back to England..."

"Oh. Umm sure. Actually a boat is due to come before the end of the month, last one before winter and the ocean gets too angry to sail, so you can get a letter to him sooner than you think. But it'll probably be a while before you get an answer," He explained.  _Once I get the return letter I'll have to ask for his help again to translate the symbols into sounds,_  she thought to herself. But that was another struggle for another day.

"Thomas..." She sighed, breaking eye contact. She knew that these folks considered intimacy to be taboo, and hoped she wasn't going to bring John a lot of shame by what she was about to tell him. "What I'm about to tell you is a secret. From anyone. For John's sake," She trusted Thomas, but wasn't sure maintaining just her own dignity would be motivation enough for him to keep his mouth shut. "I'm only here because I can listen to and speak in your tongue, but your 'written language' is beyond me, so I need someone to pen the letter for me,"

"Oh. Uh... sure,"

"You cannot judge," It was a statement, not a question. Thomas began to look very nervous, and Pocahontas realized she had forgotten the gift outside with Anoki. Perhaps the gesture would put the nervous man at east. "Oh! I nearly forgot..." she excused herself, returned to the door and asked Anoki for the parcel. He gave it, and she smiled to show things were still okay and he seem placated. Turning back to Thomas she handed him the thick blanket, "Here. For you. For hosting me, and helping me with the letter," she explained.

"Oh wow, this feels very thick, and warm!" He smiled genuinely. "I... don't have something this nice to give you in return," He frowned.

"You accepted me into your home, and you're about to help me write a very... private... letter to John. That is more than enough," She explained. Thomas nodded, thanking her again and making a mental note to thank the man outside as well for such a kind gift. It would keep him warm this winter, and did well at putting his mind at ease.

"Umm let me get the stuff I need," Thomas gestured for her to sit at the table while he gathered some paper, quill, and inkwell. "Okay, shoot!" He smiled.

"Hello John," Pocahontas paused, feeling unsure all of a sudden. Did she blurt it out? Did she waste time talking about nothing first? She looked at the paper, she knew the value of it. She didn't want to waste it with nonsense, or waste it by only writing one sentence. "I hope this letter finds you. If it does, make sure to thank Thomas. He helped me make it, I can't use your written language on my own,"

"You don't have to tell him to thank me," Thomas cut it, but Pocahontas held up her hand.

"I insist," He bit his lip, then dipped the quill into the ink to continue writing.

"Winter is approaching. It's so beautiful here in winter, I wish you could see it. What is winter like back in your England?" Winter could be harsh, but with proper preparation the season had a beauty beyond words. The stillness in the air, the cool breeze, the long dark nights that allowed the stars to dance in the sky. "I am writing to you..." She faltered. Wondering how to word it. "to tell you important news..." She paused again, kneading her fingers in thought.  _Oh just tell him like you would a member of your tribe. Your family. He can choose to accept it or not. How you state it won't change the facts_  She thought. Thomas was staring at her, seemingly caught between remaining silent and asking her if things were alright. "It seems I am with child,"

Thomas gasped, then slapped a hand over his mouth and glanced at the door. He forced himself to remain silent, trying to absorb the shock of the news his friend may have fathered a child then was forced to flee to England to lick his wounds. His eyes locked with the woman's across from him, and he saw the intense anxiety in her features. He mouthed her an apology, and put his head back down holding the quill over the paper. He could at least do her the honor of finishing the letter, letting her thoughts out before he questioned her. He knew John had developed strong feelings for the girl, but apparently they went far deeper than he had ever spoken about.

"I understand it will be time before you can send a letter back to me," she continued, not wanting to assume he would heroically swim across the ocean to get to her in person. If he returned to her people's lands at all. She dared not hope for such. A letter was a much more realistic dream she could hold onto without falling to pieces. "I am well. My people are taking good care of me. I have everythign I could need. Food, water, shelter, and the company of friends and family," In truth Thomas was the first other than her to hear news of the child. While her people always showed the greatest care for a woman with child, she hoped there would be no stigma because of who the father was. She carried on about nonsense, if only to soften the blow of the news. She wondered how to end the letter. Thinking of what she would say if he was here in front of her. "I love you," She finally decided. "Stay well, recover well."

"Want me to put your name at the bottom?" Thomas asked,

"My name doesn't have symbols for your writing," She explained. Thomas thought for a moment,

"I can just try to write how it sounds. It'll be good enough," He explained. Once sure the ink was dry he sealed it, and placed it carefully into his desk. "I promise I'll see it makes it on the first boat that will be going back to England,"

"Thank you,"

"You'll have to let me visit now and then. To make sure you're doing alright. It's what John would do if he was still here. Well he'd probably actually move to your village... but the best I can do is visit a lot,"

"You don't have to,"

"I can't call myself his friend if I just pretended I didn't know anything and kept my head down," Thomas explained. "I'll try to visit soon. And once I have a chance to send your letter I'll make sure to tell you right away!" He promised. Pocahontas felt tears in her eyes as she smiled at the man. She wished all of his people could share his heart. She knew why John had trusted and befriended this man.

"Thank you,"

True to his word Thomas had visited at least once every seven days to check on her. On the forth visit he came with news that a ship had arrived. He knew one of the sailors and trusted him to see the letter to John once the ship returned to England. By then, Pocahontas had found the courage to tell first Nakoma, who was her sister in all but blood; then she found the courage to tell her father. Much to her surprise they accepted the news happily. None judged her for carrying a foreign man's child. Rather they decided to celebrate the spirit's gift of a new life.

Pocahontas was cooking fish by the fire with her father when Thomas made his weekly visit. He greeted her with a clumsy hand gesture, trying to use the hand wave she had taught him but the presense of her father made him nervous.

"Sit with us," the chief insisted. The man obliged, and knelt by the fire asking what he could do to assist. "You're doing enough. My daughter tells me you are visiting our village so often because the father of this child cannot be here through circumstances none of us foresaw. Honorable man," the chief explained, his voice calm which clashed with his perpetually stern expression.

"It's the least I could do..." He stammered. He knew it was what his friend would want, and he felt bad leaving the woman alone during this time. Maybe it was a bias because of how his own people would treat a single unwed pregnant woman. Or maybe he just liked the warm way the tribe treated Pocahontas. Or both. But regardless of the reason he was drawn to the village his visits continued.

"I have a gift for you," The chief explained, and held out a necklace. A necklace with a simple stone carving of a wolf's face was wrapped in a cloth rope, "A totem," He explained, "The wolf. You are loyal to see to your friend's business even if he is not here to see it. Loyal to your friendship with my daughter to visit so regularly. We may fear their howls in the night, but all know the loyalty of the wolf," Thomas ran his thumb over the figure, and placed the looped thread around his neck,

"Thank you," He said quietly, a mingle of strong emotions overcoming him. While only partly understanding the gesture, he knew it was a strong one. He knew the gift wasn't a simple one thrown around to anyone who decided to just spend some time at the Powhatan village. "I'm honored," he answered honestly.

"No. Thank you," the chief said. The group ate the fish and talked, Thomas inquiring as to how Pocahontas was feeling and was given a polite dignified answer. He wondered how much longer before John Smith was able to send word, or better yet himself, but promised both himself and his friend he would continue to check on Pocahontas even after word finally arrived.

Winter came and went, and with it the dangerous storms in the sea. As spring arrived the settlers knew the latest shipment of men and supplies would arrive. And with it, Thomas hoped, John Smith. He hoped the man had enough honor to come himself, and not just write a letter. The time he was spending with Pocahontas showed him why John had fallen in love with the native princess. He just hoped the time apart hadn't made John fall out of love. Or to develop amorous feelings for a woman back home in England.

And arrive a ship did at the end of May, and with it a tall blonde man named John Smith. He looked jaunty, and ran down the ramp of the ship even more eager than the other sailors to get off the malodorous ship filled with men who hadn't bathed in far too long, living in too-cramped quarters, and grumpy moods. The letter had never left his mind. He couldn't believe it.  _A child_. He wondered, as he did nearly daily, how his dearest Pocahontas was doing. He hoped she was being well cared for. His first impulse was to rush to the village and sweep her off her feet, and wondered if his child had yet been born. But much to his shame he realized the landscape no longer looked familiear. The settlement was larger, the trees looked different, even the coastline seemed to have changed shape.  _Thomas_. He thought to himself.

Ignoring the cursing of his fellow sailors he rushed off to find his friend's house, pounding on the door the moment he arrived. Thomas answered the door to find a very sweaty, out of breath, and unfortunately malodorous John Smith standing before him,

"John!" He shouted, glad his hopes had come true. He knew his friend had enough honor to make his way back to Virginia. He knew his friend wouldn't abandon his child, regardless of any circumstances that led to it's birth. "Oh God John... I want to greet you but... you need a bath," He chuckled, and recalled when he himself had first arrived in Virginia. John was feeling impatient, wanting to hurry to the Powhatan village. But Thomas managed to convince him that after such a long trip he should first wash, get into fresh clothing, then go to the village. He reluctantly agreed, a part of him knowing greeting his princess in such a disheveled state may not be the way she would want to see him again.

John returned to Thomas some time later, smelling much cleaner and in a fresh pair of brown trousers, and a simple linen shirt. The stagnant humid heat made any further layers impractical and uncomfortable.

"Now that you've had a moment to shower sit  _down_ ," Thomas insisted. "Get your head together before you go rushing off. I'll get you something to eat,"

"I can eat later. I actually had some salted pork before getting off the boat. Pocahontas has been carrying my child for months. For all I know the child has been born, and she's been bearing that burden alone!" Forgetting about rank, respect, and dignity, Thomas moved to block the doorway.

"Use your head!" He yelled back. "You really think she's been alone this whole time? She has her whole tribe with her. They aren't like us, they don't make a lone woman deal with a pregnancy alone. And I've been checking on her regularly for you. You don't think I'd help her write you a letter like that then let her run off and never speak of it again?" This made John pause, and he sighed,

"Sorry Thomas. I didn't mean to imply-"

"Now sit down for a minute. Eat, gather your thoughts. We can head to the village together," he continued. John reluctantly sat down at the small table in the center of the room while the smaller man walked over to the hearth where he had a simple fish stew boiling. He brought John a bowl and a few pieces of local fruit which John ate with great enthusiasm despite his earlier insistence on lack of an appetite.

"So... how is she?" John asked. "Has the... my... baby been born?"

"She's doing very well! And no, the child has not been born yet," Thomas thumbed at the totem around his neck, still tucked beneath his shirt. "I've been going there once a week. She's very healthy, and well taken care of. The chief even gave me a totem for checking on her for you while we waited for a ship to arrive," Thomas carried on, excited to finally have someone to share this news with. He was proud of being given such a gift, but none of the other settlers could understand how much it meant to him.

"Thank you. You're a good friend Thomas," John replied, and finished the last bites of his food. "Now that I've washed and eaten can I go see the mother of my child now?" John asked impatiently. Thomas nodded, and the pair rushed off to the Powhatan village. John could feel his heart racing in his chest, as he tried to picture her. Her smooth skin, her ebony hair. Her dark eyes, long legs, and gentle hands. Being forced back to England had been one of the most heartbreaking experiences of his life. He had to leave behind the woman whom he loved. He hadn't quite realized just how much the separation had hurt him until he received her letter. He had refused to leave his home for nearly a week. He had no way of getting back to her, or sending her word. The wait for the first ship to the Virginia colony was agony. His thoughts were interrupted when Thomas announced the village was in sight, and John began to run, Thomas struggling to keep up with John's longer legs.

Pocahontas was with Nakoma, sitting together weaving together what was likely a fishing net. She was every bit as perfect as he recalled. She was laughing with her friend, her smile pulling at her eyes and he thought she had never looked so beautiful. Her hair was pulled back, and even in her hunched position he could see her swollen belly.  _Swollen with my child. My future._  He thought to himself. Now that she was within sight his voice caught in his throat when he first tried to call her name. But she had seen him and Thomas running to her before he could find his voice.

"John?" He could see her mouth the words, but like him her voice caught in her throat. She tried a second time, this time he could hear that beautiful voice he had been dreaming of for months. She stood, and ran awkwardly towards him. The couple collided, wrapping arms around each other. Pocahontas found tears burning her eyes, John too stunned for tears. Nakoma was standing, clearly just as starteld at Pocahontas was, and a very winded Thomas struggled up to the small group. Others were gathering curiously around the sudden commotion, trying to discern what was going on.

"You came back! You came back John..." She whispered,

"How could I not?" John replied into her ear, and felt her embrace him harder. "Leaving was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I wish I never had to," He wanted her to know it wasn't only the child that brought him back. That he didn't return out of obligation. The news of the child only made the separation harder. "But I'm back, and that's what matters," He replied, pulling back from the embrace and smiling at her. He looked at her swollen belly, placing a hand over it. "I couldn't ask for a better homecoming gift,"

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this reply to your what-if, I actually had a lot of fun writing this considering Pocahontas is one of my least-favorite Disney movies (hence why I haven't seen it in like a decade) I hope you enjoyed reading it!


	22. Hunchback of Notre Dame, Rating: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ff.net user Kamikazi-djali: What if the crowd had never turned against Quasimodo at the Feast of Fools?
> 
> This reminds me it has been too long since I've watched this movie. It's up there too in my top 10 favorite Disney movies, top 5 maybe. It's just so dark and different from anything else I can't help but love the movie. So I apologize if there's minor inconsistencies in the scene. I'm working mostly off memory here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

* * *

I may have made Quasi a little more awkward here than he is in the movie. But if someone spent as much time in isolation as he does, to the point he hallucinates gargoyle friends, I can't see him having the strongest social skills.

Quasimodo was the happiest he could ever recall. He was cheering upon the platform, smiling as the crowd cheered and laughed. The entire atmosphere of the festival was just as intoxicating as he always dreamed. The smells of food, people, and drink filled the air. The sounds around him, laughter, music, and cheerful voices. He couldn't see or hear the evil Master always warned him about.  _Why didn't I do this years ago?_  He mused. There as no darkness, no heartlessness, no cruelty here. For the first time in his life he didn't feel lonely.

In time, the crowd moved on to the next spectacle, leaving Quasimodo to jump down from his platform with his makeshift crown and sceptar made of painted wood. He pulled the cloth crown down over his head tighter, fearful of losing the object as he tightened his grip on the wooden scepter. He wanted to remember this day forever.

"So, having fun?" a voice managed to ring above the cacophony of the crowd. The young man turned and looked up to the source of the voice. It was the same young woman whom he had accidentally stumbled into while she was changing, and helped remove the masks during whatever strange contest he had accidentally found himself a part of.  _A lot of happy accidents today._ He thought to himself, and bit his lip nervously, feeling the flush that burned his cheeks.  _I shouldn't blush._ _Master_ _says it's a sign of weakness of the spirit_. He chided himself, but was brought from his self-chastisement with a warm hand on his shoulder, "you look a little overwhelmed," the woman's voice continued.

"Oh! Sorry... yeah, I'm having a great time," he nodded, meaning his words. Lies were not his forte, anytime he tried to lied to Frollo the judge could see through it so the young man had assumed everyone could simply tell when you were lying. "I've always watched the festival. Never actually thought of visiting it," He admitted, "Very nice of everyone to give me these," He said, gesturing to his souvenirs.

"Wait... are you the bell ringer?" The young woman asked, looking from him to the bell towers of Notre Dame. He felt the head in his cheeks get worse, and he avoided her eyes wondering what she was going to say to him. Frollo always told him that everyone called him the monster of the bell tower, that they would hate him, chase him away. The only reason they let him stay in the cathedral was under the protection of Sanctuary that Frollo had called for him on the day of his mother's abandonment. "You are, aren't you?" her face broke into a grin and she chuckled. "Half the city thinks you're just a myth, the other half a ghost," She placed her hands on her hips and looked up, "people aren't very smart,"

"Oh, they're very smart," Quasimodo defended quickly with a shake of his head. "They know what every single bell toll means without anyone telling them they just recognize the sound. The baker, from Francois's Boulangerie goes to the bookstore every day. He must be smart to read that many books. Annabelle, she teaches all the schoolkids. You have to be smart to teach. Like Master teaches me," Quasimodo stopped his rambling at the look on her face, "Did... I say something wrong?" and after the briefest pause he covered his mouth, "Oh! I'm sorry, I never asked your name,"

"I'm Esmeralda, and no you didn't say anything wrong. I'm just... surprised you know so much about the townspeople,"

"I watch everyone from the tower when I'm not ringing the bells or cleaning them," The young man explained.

"Well what's your name? I feel rude just calling you  _bell ringer_ ," Esmeralda asked with a smile. She was intrigued by the fact the bell ringer had come down from his tower. She wondered how he managed to sneak past Frollo's iron fist. She knew that this boy certainly wasn't here on the judge's blessing. If Frollo ever did something kind she had a feeling the world might turn inside out.

"Quasimodo," He replied cheerfully. The young woman stared for a few moments, brows furrowed as she felt a sudden and deep pang in his heart. He said the cruel name with that unbroken smile on his face.  _Half formed._  She thought to herself.  _The bastard named him half-formed?!_

"I'll call you Quasi," She answered, unable to bring herself to call him by his full. He seemed a little confused and she continued, "It's a nickname,"

"I know. Just... no one ever gave me one before," He answered.  _Another gift?_  He wondered. "Should I give you one?" He asked, trying to think of one that didn't sound strange to him.

"You don't have to," She replied. He was almost like talking to a child. "You're very nice by the way. Most people don't like a Romani girl," She expressed, feeling surprisingly at ease around him.  _Careful now. He's Frollo's protégé._

"A what?"

"a gypsy," she clarified, and Quasimodo noticed her expression changed at the word. "Judge Frollo says our people are filthy thieves, most people hate us," she admitted, wondering why she was prattling on. Quasimodo shook his head at her,

"That can't be true. Isn't it mostly gypsies at this festival? And everyone has been so kind. They gave me these gifts, you're talking to me, the food smells wonderful, and the drinks, and the songs are very pretty. I watch people from the tower all day, I don't see them doing bad things," He admitted. This got him thinking.  _Frollo is always warning me about the gypsies. But when I watch them from the bell towers all I see are happy people dancing and performing. Walking with families like anyone else in Paris. I try to see why he calls them evil and I can't figure it out. Maybe I'm just not as smart as Frollo. But this girl doesn't seem evil to me. Maybe only some of them are?_  He had never felt so conflicted. He wanted to believe Frollo wouldn't lie to him. How could the man kind enough to take in an abandoned monster be a liar? But the festival was full of kind people, and this girl talking to him was the kindest he had met. How could her people be evil?

Esmeralda bit back the half-dozen replies that came to her lips. Shewanted to admonish him for speaking of Frollo like he was human. To praise him for his kind words about the Romani people. To show envy of his optimism and innocence.

"Come," She finally replied, taking his hand, "They're playing more music down here. You said you like the music?" She asked. He nodded, and followed her. Even Frollo never held his hand. He enjoyed the warmth of it, and the warmth that spread across his nose and cheeks, burning his ears. She led him further down the main boulevard to where a troup of men were playing a variety of instruments, a lively tune filling the air. People were pairing off and dancing to the beat, others clapping and stomping their feet as they watched various couples dance. "Dance with me?" She asked, "If you're at the festival for the first time enjoy  _all_  of it," she encouraged.

"I don't know how, and Frollo says dancing is sinful... it's about the body not the spirit," Quasimodo replied, feeling rude telling this kind girl 'no'.

"Quasi close your eyes," He closed his eyes. "Listen to that music,"

"Okay,"

"What is it making you feel,"

"Happy," He replied. "It's like when people laugh. The music is just... happy,"

"And where do you feel happy," She probed,

"I don't know, it's just a feeling," He answered her.

"That's because you're feeling your music in your spirit," Esmeralda explained, "You can't tell why you feel it because it's not sinful or only about the body. Just because you move your body to music doesn't mean it's sinful. You're just acting out what your spirit wants you to do," She explained. "Does that sound sinful to you?"

"Not when you put it like that," Quasimodo replied, "But Master says-"

"Frollo also says gypsies are evil, but you already said you don't believe that," She cut him off. "It's possible that Frollo can be wrong occasionally," She urged,

"Oh no! He's my kind master... he wants to only teach me the right things. He took me in when my mother abandoned me, he was willing to take in a monster when anyone else would have drowned me in a well," He answered, beginning to knit his fingers.

"Who said you're a monster?" She asked gently.

"Master. It's why I'm named Quasimodo. To remind me that I'm a monster and how kind it was for him to take me in,"

"Call you a monster and naming you  _Quasimodo_  doesn't sound kind to me," She replied, and the young man looked like he had been slapped.

"No! He's very very kind," he immediately defended. "He gives me new clothes every season so I always look clean, helps me cut my hair, gets me new shoes when mine wear out so my feet don't hurt when I run along the bell towers. He feeds me and brings me wine. He even taught me how to read and gives me books to read," He was counting off on his fingers as he listed the acts of what he believed to be altruism. Esmeralda sighed, deciding to change the subject. It was clear she wasn't going to turn this boy against the judge with simple words. But that had never been her intent. She only wished to show him some kindness the judge surely never showed him. Maybe give the boy the courage and motivation he needed to sneak out of the tower more often.

"Well. Back to my original question," She began, her voice lacking it's earlier confidence. "Dance with me?" Quasimodo looked at her outstretched hand, worrying his bottom lip.

"I don't know how," He answered,

"There's nothing to know! Here, just take my hand, and just move the way the music wants you to," She answered. She pulled on his hand, grasping his other in her own and began to lead him in a simple, joyful, disorganized dance. The crowd seemed to recognize their King of Fools dancing with a beautiful woman and there was more clapping and more stomping as the music enveloped them. Quasimodo forgot about warnings of carnal desire and sin, forgot about propriety, forgot about the watching eyes of Notre Dame. He allowed himself to be guided by the music, laughing like he did when the crowd had crowned him their King of Fools. He returned the kind Romani girl's smile, bouncing erratically on his feet as she guided him in simple circles. The music played another cheerful tune, and he was more eager to accept Esmeralda's request for a second dance.

He let go of his inhibitions. He stopped questioning every action, every request. He pushed the warning angry words of Frollo to the back of his mind. He wanted to absorb everything about the festival. He accepted the offers of food, wine, more music and dancing, he watched performers entertain the crowd, farce players tell their stories, and for the first time in his life he felt like he belonged to Paris. He wasn't the bell ringer of Notre Dame, he wasn't the monster who Frollo was kind enough to take pity on. He wasn't the creature everyone feared. He wasn't a waiting victim of gypsy tricks. For one blissful day, he was Parisian.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you liked this reply to the question. I hope it wasn't too short... I had a lot of fun writing this one, and can almost see it spinning off into Quasimodo questioning Frollo and eventually running away from the bell tower as each and every lie and warning he was told begins to fall apart.


	23. Beauty and the Beast, Rating: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guest: What if Lafou babysat Belle's daughter?

 

* * *

" _Please_ sleep!" Lafou begged, wondering how in Heaven's name Belle had convinced him to watch her daughter. Prince Adam was away on diplomatic business, and Belle had to escort her father to the inventor's festival, and felt the journey in the woods would be too dangerous for the small child.  _Why me?!_  He wondered to himself.  _An entire castle of people and she chose_ _ **me**_ _?!_ The one year old child squirmed in his arms, fussing and crying while he tried to find a comfortable way to hold her so he could try and rock her to sleep. "You've been awake almost all night! It's nearly dawn! I've fed you, changed you, changed you again for good measure, make sure you burped and puked all over me!" He complained, "Okay okay..." He placed the child on the floor, running to gather some of her toys while the tot wailed on the floor.

"Hey look! It's rabbity rabbit!" Lafou tried to put on a high-pitched voice, bouncing the stuffed bunny in one hand, a toy cat in the other, "and... umm... kitty the kitty!" He added, not caring much for creative names. "Hey rabbity, let's go to sleep! It's late at night!" a lower pitched gruff voice, "Sounds like a smart idea!" he replied to himself in the high-pitch. "All good little girls sleep at night and get their beauty rest!" Lefou stated, bouncing the rabbit, "Like that lady from Little Town! She's very pretty! I guarantee she sleeps all night every night!... Is this working?" He was near tears himself.  _She could have at least let me stay at the palace but no, she needed someone to watch her crazy father's house and mind the stupid chickens, and the stupid horse, and the stupid ducks._

 _"_ What about a story? You need a story?" Lefou asked, the child continuing to cry in response. "I don't read like your mom, so... don't expect a good one," He crossed his arms, the stuffed animals still in his hands as he shifted his arm to beat one against his forehead as he wracked his mind to think of a story. Not the creative type, the best he could come up with was a hunting trip with Gaston that the man would have murdered him for repeating, were he still alive to do so. "Once upon a time there was a big tall handsom... uh... knight. Well one day the knight and his... ah what's the word. Squire? Yeah! Squire. Okay. So once upon a time a handsome knight and his squire went hunting because they were hungry. After wandering..." He tried to think of how to make the story sound like something from a book, or a proper child's bedtime story. "for days and days, the knight and his squire were lost and even hungrier. The squire thought he would die of hunger. That's when the knight saw it. A deer, bigger than a house! It had antlers... big as the trees. He was...  _King_  of the deer! It was mad at the knight so it ran up and bit him on the butt! The knight dropped his hunting gun and started yelling and leaping around like a frog!" Lefou laughed at the memory, recalling the hunting trip he was embellishing for this screaming baby. "No? Didn't like that story?" Lefou complained as the red-faced child continued to bawl.

"A song? I can't sing like your mom but I can try," He held her out at arms length, noting her red face, mucous tripping form her nose, drool from her mouth, and scrunched his nose.  _Why did I say yes to this?_ He tried to recall any lullabies he knew, singing them off-key as he tried to soothe the child to sleep. "Please? I'm not your mom but music is music!" He complained, lolling his head back and looking at the ceiling in despair. He tried another lullaby, and then tried singing the first one again with nonsense lyrics. "Oh come on! You mom sings all the time, how come it didn't work?!"

"Maybe you like to be tickled?" He reached forward, wiggling his fingers on her stomach, making cooing noises that no one would have let him live down if they heard. "come on, sleep!" he begged between making giggle noises at her. He picked her up off the floor, bouncing her in his arms ready to bash his own head against the wall so  _he_  could sleep, and let the child scream all night if he wanted. He sighed, feeling bad at the thought alone. The child obviously needed  _something_  he just didn't know what.

"Do you need a warmer outfit?" He asked her, tilting his head. He had picked something he thought was warm, and tried wrapping her in a small blanket to see if she was just cold, bouncing her in his arms. His arms were wearing out from holding her, he was not a very tall man and holding the squirming baby was an awkward exercise.

"Hmm... do you like animals?" He asked, remembering the stupid animals he was also in charge of. "It's almost dawn anyway, maybe they're awake," He went outside, hoping bringing her to the animals wasn't something bad. He was just desperate to get her to  _sleep_. He walked outside and to the stable, and then remembered there was no stupid horse, that it was pulling the cart with Belle and her father. "I hope you like chickens," He pleaded, and went into the coop so the small child could look at the animals. He knew better than to let her touch them, but maybe seeing and hearing them would help calm her down. And much to his surprise, it did. The crying stopped, and turned into giggles, as she reached out towards the ground as the chickens clucked and shook, investigating the invader to their coop before walking way to eat the last of the feed he laid out hours earlier. "So it's animals you like! Good to know..." the relief was beyond measure. He let her giggle at the chickens, and after some minutes the child finally began to drift off to sleep, snuggling her snot and drool covered face against his shirt, and her previous sobs replaced with smooth quiet breathing.

He contemplated sitting right there in the chicken coop and sleeping with the baby, worried that moving her might return her to her state of screaming. But the coop smelled aweful, and the allure of sleeping himself was too strong. He moved agonizingly slow back to the cottage, eased the sleeping tot into her crib, and made his way to the bed Belle had assured him it was fine if he slept it, not finding it improper or impolite. His head hit the pillow and the sleep came nearly instantly.

"Lefou?" A sing-songy voice called out as the door burst open, the baby immediately bursting into tears, "I'm home!"

"Oh come on!" He cursed.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was short, but nonetheless I hope it was enjoyable. I was a month away from my due date when I wrote this one, which probably explains why chapters were getting so short it was tough to write when super pregnant.


	24. Tarzan, Rating: M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Radiklement: What if Jane was the only survivor of the shipwreck and she survived in Tarzan's parents' treehouse? (with some Jane/Tarzan fluff/smut)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

* * *

Jane sat with her legs crossed inside the tree-house, having re-thatched much of the roof to better provide shelter from the alternating rain deluges and blistering sun. Her calloused fingers were knotting the finishing touches on the fishing net she had been weaving for over a month. She hoped her hard work would hold together the first time she threw it in the water. After an hour of work she stood, holding up the net and running it through her fingers to inspect it,

"Well now Jane, I'd say even the fishermen back home would color themselves impressed," She remarked to herself proudly. She was thrilled at the idea that dinner would become an easier task to accomplish, and that she wouldn't have to rely so heavily on insects to maintain an adequate protein intake. Though she'd be a liar if she tried to claim certain insects didn't taste far too delicious after a good roast over a fire. It just took so much damned time to gather enough of them.

She brushed her tangled hair from her face, vainly tucking it behind her ear.  _I need to weave a new headband to keep my hair out of my face._ She thought to herself. With her net completed, she would need a new project to occupy her free time. She had kept her hair shoulder-length; long enough to protect the nape of her neck, but short enough that it was less frustrating to manage. Her once pale skin was bronzed in the places it wasn't red and blistered. Fingernails were short, frequently broken by manual labor. Her once lithe figure had trimmed, muscles defined under her skin. Her face had become more defined, and she looked less a child and more a woman. While she had managed to fashion herself pseudo-shoes from the local plant life, the young woman spent much of her time barefoot giving her thick calloused feet that were criss-crossed with scars. Her clothes were a combination of what she had salvaged from the shipwreck, having made adjustments to male pants finding them far more practical than her skirts, and a collection of garments fashioned from the jungle's bounty; for the days it was too hot for proper clothing, but enough to protect the modesty she found she couldn't let go of.

A gentle rattle caught her attention, and she dropped her net, her hand snatching the spear that was never out of arm's reach. She spun around towards the direction of the sound, her wide eyes searching for the intruder. She tried to control her breathing so her own respiration wouldn't cover the sound of the approaching threat. The furthest reach of her peripheral vision caught motion, and she turned quickly and swung her spear, hardly managing to stop herself before skewering her guest,

"Tarzan!" She snapped, "I hate it when you sneak up on me like that!" She lowered her guard, dropping the spear to her side,

"You took my advice," He replied with a smile,

"The whole place is rigged with alarms I've made," She replied, "Did you purposely run through one just to test me?" She asked,

"No... it was very low, didn't expect it..." He admitted sheepishly, somewhat ashamed to admit he was too busy avoiding the string of nut shells hanging from the top of the door frame to notice the second set strung across the foot of the threshold.

"The mighty Tarzan's sneak attack interrupted by the delicate naturalist from England?" She fluttered a hand over her chest in mock-suprise, allowing herself to feel pride at the effectiveness of her homemade alarm system. After Sabor had left a near-fatal wound in her left arm in an attack that the wild man had interrupted with little time to spare, Tarzan had insisted the young woman be more aware of the dangers of the jungle. She had been too jarred from the attack to argue, and set to work over the following weeks to rig her entire home with noise makers so nothing could sneak up on her again. The memory reminded her of the stiffness and tingling in the arm, and she flexed her fingers to ease some of it. "So what brings you here today?" She asked.

"I need a reason?" came the reply.  _Was that sarcasm? He's spending too much time with me_. She thought to herself.

"No," came her quick reply, a smile pulled her lips as he moved closer to her and stood to his full height. She looked up into his blue eyes, such strange wild eyes. She closed her own as he leaned into her, capturing her in a kiss. She wondered if the gesture was a natural human instinct, or just a gesture she had taught him that he found he enjoyed. She tried to shut up the scientist in her and just enjoy the moment without having to analyze it. He rarely took initiative, and it was Jane who broke the kiss to gently bite down on his bottom lip, her hands reaching up behind his head, tangling in his thick dreadlocks. He smelled of sweat, dirt, and a distinct odor that had long ceased to be unpleasant to her. It was simply the scent of  _him_. A scent that awoke an array of impure thoughts that she allowed herself to embrace, seeing no need to feel ashamed of perfectly natural urges.  _It's almost always the female of the species who are in control of mating rituals_ _in the jungle_. She found herself thinking at his hesitation, and once again tried to tell the scientist in her to shut the hell up. She whispered her desire into Tarzan's ear, losing herself as his arms pulled her tighter against him.

Emboldened by Jane's breathy voice against his ear, and the increasingly aggressive movements of her hands, Tarzan allowed himself to be captured by his own desires. He pulled at her clothing, wanting to feel her skin not this foreign material. She was quick to discard her shirt, but wiggling out of her pants was harder with the firm grip Tarzan had on her. His lips clashed against her neck, teeth biting down on her skin before his tongue tasted the salt on her skin. Her scent was almost maddening, and he wondered how he could resist pinning her to the ground every time he was near her. He recalled the strange way she smelled during their first meeting. Foreign. Strange. But that scent vanished quickly enough, and he was able to smell the  _real_ Jane. Not the false-flower smell of the stuff she called  _perfume._ She smelled like  _Jane_. And it drove him wild.

Out of her own clothing Jane now fumbled with the small cloth wrapped around Tarzan's groin. The garment was more about comfort and protection than modesty, a trait so foreign to him she gave up on explaining why she retained it herself long ago. She pulled Tarzan over to what functioned as a bed, eliciting a delighted grunt from him, and she could feel his breathing quicken beneath the fingers she splayed on his chest. She could feel the truth of his desire against her thigh, and shifted her hips to keep them from joining quite yet,

"No need to rush," she whispered to him, getting a disappointed moan,

"No need to tease me Jane," came the reply. She remembered the first time they caved to desire. It was fast and messy, leaving the pair spent and satisfied. But Jane didn't want every encounter to be guided by lust alone. She wanted his voice to fill her ears, his kisses, his breath on her neck, his hands and tongue absolutely everywhere. She wanted these liaisons to stretch into the night. She had shown him what their nights could be like, and he embraced it. She had taught him a new world of affection, and it nearly drove him mad with desire. The man, the outcast, the hairless freak of the gorilla clan. He finally found another human. And he simply couldn't get enough of her. Far from England, and the pressure to be a proper lady, Jane could cave to her every desire; let herself follow impulse and desire, get lost in the arms of this wild man. The man who taught her the paths in the jungle, where to find anything she may need. He showed her her every heart's desire. She got to study exotic creatures any naturalist would have died for the chance to see. And her beloved gorillas. She got to meet them. To watch them. To  _speak_  with the intelligent creatures. She had want for nothing.

 _God damn it I love him._  She thought to herself as he brought his tongue against her neck again, his breath ticking her, the weight of him on top of her almost uncomfortable, his scent filling her nose. She nearly couldn't resist caving to her lust, taking it slow suddenly felt like torture. She whispered his name, and her moan told him to keep his damn hands exactly where they were.

He knew the places to kiss, to place his hands, work his fingers to get her to writhe and moan beneath him. His tongue clashed with hers once more, the taste of her was as intoxicating as her scent. He wanted it all. To know every aspect of her.  _I'm finally not so alone._  And he wanted to make her feel as blissful as he. To make her feel as wonderful as she made him feel. After several more moments of the delicious torture, Jane tilted her hips and they joined. Their moans and gasps filled the tree house, hips thrusting as Tarzan held Jane's hands over her head, his face buried into the nape of her neck. Animalistic grunts and moans replaced all words as they writhed together until they were both left panting and gasping in the bed, the sounds of their voices having frightened off flocks of birds. Sleep took the lovers, basking in the afterglow of passion as the afternoon wore into early evening.

Tarzan woke, disappointed to find Jane's warm body no longer curled in his arms. He was hoping to feel more of her warm skin beneath his hands. He opened his eyes, seeing her naked form sitting in the center of the room fussing with what appeared to be netting. She looked up at him, her concentration broken when he called her name.

"I made a fishing net," Jane explained when he pointed to the object in her hands. "Help me catch fish easier. Want to come to the water to help me test it?" she asked,

"I've never fished with a net before, just spears or my bare hands," the wild man answered. "I'd like to learn," he always loved to learn, almost as much as she enjoyed teaching him.

"Let's go then!" She called excitedly. By the  _stars_  he loved the smile that overtook her when she was excited about something. Tarzan replaced the small wrappings around his groin to protect himself, and Jane dressed in more modest clothing that she insisted were to protect herself from the relentless sun at the beach, "My shoulders are peeling enough as it is. I need something to protect my skin," Tarzan followed her to the beach, where together they looked for signs of schooling fish. As the sun began to set schools of fish would brave the coastal water to feed, the perfect time for Jane to test out her handiwork. She only hoped weeks of work would not be in vain. Eventually they saw the ripples in the water and Jane eased out her net, trying to remember what she watched fishermen back home do with the nets. It took patience, Tarzan complaining that his spear would have caught more fish by now, Jane answering him with an insistent shush. After some time Jane pulled in her net, and much to her joy was filled with fish.

"You'll never be able to eat all that," Tarzan said, fascinated by the effectiveness of this net.

"I've been spending the last several months collecting and evaporating the ocean water for salt. I can preserve most of this fish so I'll have food to last me a while," she explained excitedly, inspecting the net to check for signs of damage as she pulled in her bounty.

"The smell will attract predators," Tarzan insisted, but Jane shook her head,

"I'll dry the fish with salt to preserve it and bury it in some of the clay containers I salvaged from the shipwreck. Took me a while to fix them, but it should keep the smell down and the predators out," she explained. She had found clay deposits in several locations in the jungle, and had used the soft ruddy material to repair the jars she had salvaged from the original shipwreck. She only lamented she wasn't a good enough clay-worker to make entire jars from scratch. Perhaps, like her net, weeks of practice and work would yield usable results. Tarzan seemed confused, but didn't press her for an explanation, "but for tonight what do you say we gather some fruit and roast some of this fish over a fire, have a nice dinner together?" she asked, and he leaned forward to answer her with a kiss,

"Anything for Jane," the young woman blushed at his response.

"I'd share the bounty with your family, but gorilla's don't eat fish," she remarked, feeling somewhat selfish suddenly for gathering so much food that only she and Tarzan could enjoy. "But since I'll have enough fish to last me at least a week I can help your family gather insects to eat since I won't be spending so much time gathering some for myself," she offered. "We can gather some extra fruit tonight too to share,"

"Kerchak would approve," Tarzan nodded, knowing the silverback of his clan was always so hesitant to accept him, though defeating Sabor had gained him a level of respect. He had hated Jane at first, finding her another dangerous intruder. But Kala had insisted Kerchak never hurt the young woman, and in time Jane's careful visits with Tarzan at her side, and her offerings of food, meant most of the clan came to accept her. They were the ones to teach her how to use sticks to efficiently gather termites to eat. Terk had taken to her quickly, trusting Tarzan's judgement, and occasionally was with Tarzan when he visited Jane at her tree-house. To gain Kerchak's trust was the final endeavor for the woman to be fully welcomed into the fold.

Tarzan helped Jane carry the net heavy with fish and seawater, and Jane showed him how she was preparing to preserve the fish. He watched, fascinated as he was with all of her lessons.

"They preserve food back in... England?" he asked, hesitating for a moment as he forgot the name of her homeland.

"Sometimes," she explained, not wanting to elaborate on how bountiful food was back in England.  _I don't think of it as home anymore_. She noted to herself. Other than the sharp pain of missing her father, she realized she wasn't homesick anymore, despite how arduous surviving in the jungle was. Tarzan made this place feel more like home than England ever did, with her being the strange outcast, far too interested in science for her own good. Tarzan never scoffed at either her knowledge or her curiosity. Rather, he embraced it. Her father was the only other person to ever accept her for who she was, and not try to turn her into a proper lady.

They spent the evening enjoying roasted fish with fruit and edible roots, and gathered more fruit to bring to the gorilla clan. Jane followed Tarzan through the dense jungle, their bundle of food carried in satchels slung over their shoulders. She worried about traveling after dark, for it was when the larger predators emerged. Her wild man reassured her as they made their way, and she tried to push away her fears and put her trust in him. The clan were busy making their sleeping nests for the night when they arrived, and Terk was the first to charge at Tarzan with a series of excited whoops. Jane chuckled at the sight, then gasped as Terk switched her attention to the young woman, throwing her full weight at her knocking her to the ground, spilling the contents of her satchel. Jane tried the greeting sounds Tarzan had taught her, and Terk grunted back in greeting. She reached for some of the spilled fruit which was already being greedily gathered by the clan, and offered a piece to Terk, who accepted it with grateful grunts and whoops. Her eyes canned the clan for the familiar Kala, and approached her slowly, and offered the matron some food as well, getting further grateful grunts. Jane remembered Tarzan wanted her to offer some to Kerchak, but the Silverback had distanced himself from the moment Tarzan and her had emerged.

"Tarzan... I don't think Kerchak wants to see us," she offered hesitantly, to which he shook his head,

"Come, I'll help you," he insisted, handing her his own satchel and pulling on her hand. She furrowed her brow, reluctant to follow. Tarzan grunted at Kerchak, who looked down at him until Tarzan brought himself to his full height, meeting the Silverback's gaze, "Kerchak, we mean you no harm," he insisted, to which the gorilla snorted, the noises exchanged between the beast and wild man clearly argumentative in nature.

"We can try another day Tarzan..." Jane was growing more anxious by the moment, and diverted her eyes to avoid making eye contact with the large gorilla,

"Show him the food," Tarzan replied, unfazed by her growing fear. "Show him you want to help the clan," Jane hesitated, then slowly emptied the contents of the satchel before Kerchak, who tilted his head at the offering before turning his attention back to Tarzan. Jane regretted that she couldn't understand the gorilla's like he could, and hoped in time she could. But for the time, she would have to trust in her wild man to speak on her behalf. "He's grateful," Tarzan explained to her, letting himself smile. "I know it's hard to tell... but he is." Jane let a small smile pull at her features, though she was skeptical. "He'll warm up to you in time. My mother won't leave him alone about it otherwise," This got a chuckle from Jane, letting some of her tension ease. She looked from Tarzan to the gorillas that surrounded them, and marveled at how none seemed to shy away from her, all appeared content as they ate the fruits brought to them, and felt Tarzan's arm wrap around her, pulling her close to him.

_The shipwreck reallly was the best thing to ever happen to me._

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm quite dissatisfied with the latter part of this fic... but I did try. I know it petered out in the end for which I apologize, but I hope it's still an enjoyable read!


	25. Tarzan, Rating: T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Withheldforprivacy: What if Jane had never lost her boot? (Remember he catches her by her toes)
> 
> I have not seen Tarzan for some time, though I do enjoy the movie. So I may have gotten the setup a little wrong, I apologize. But nonetheless, I hope this short one-shot is enjoyable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

* * *

It came in flashes, the memories. An image… a sound… explosive pain. She had leapt from the edge of a cliff, trapped between the choice of being torn apart by the baboons, or risking what lie just a leap away. Trees, much further down than she ever imagined. The holler of an unfamiliar animal, clearly an ape of some sort, almost… human. The trees, much closer. She could actually see the brush below through the few breaks in the canopy. The ruffle of leaves. A loud crack accompanied the instantaneous agony. Was that the branch she impacted, or her own bones breaking? The darkness came just before she could make out the wet mud between the brush.

Jane regained consciousness. She immediately begged to return to the darkness. She wanted to scream, but every cursed bone in her chest was aflame, breathing was a feat. She couldn't muster the willpower to scream.  _Wh-what… what… hap-happened?_  She thought, her own mind stuttering the words as she struggled to form any coherent thought through this hell. Her limbs joined the cacophony of torment. There was sound around her, but she couldn't identify a one. She opened her eyes, her vision almost too blurred to be of any use. What few shapes she could make out she couldn't identify, the accursed pain overwhelming all her senses. Her mouth was filled with the taste of metal, almost salty.  _I want to go back to the dark…_  the thought vague, spotty. She just wanted to return to wherever she was between seeing that muddy ground, and opening her eyes again to…  _this.  
_

* * *

Tarzan had descended to the forest floor as fast as he was able, desperate to find the creature  _just like me_  he failed to catch. He saw her leap from the cliff tailed by a troupe of baboons. He tried to help her flee but he dropped her. He tried to reach for her, but  _damn it_  he  _missed._ Since when did he fail when reaching for something? Not since childhood. Had he been shocked by that odd yellow coating she had that wasn't fur? Shouldn't have mattered. He shouldn't have allowed her to fall.  _I have to find her. She's like me, she's a hairless gorilla._

It took hardly any time for him to make it below the canopy and find where she had fallen. Bent and broken branches marked her fall, punctuated by an unusual silence as the local birds had flown away, insects startled into fearful silence, leaving the air painfully quiet. She was lying on the ground, and for several moments he feared Sabor had found her. Her face was caked in blood, he could hear the gurgle in her throat, the crackling of her labored exhalations. Her limbs were coated in lacerations, and it was hard to distinguish what was drying blood and what was the clay-colored mud stuck to her skin. He approached slowly, knowing how dangerous a wounded animal could be. No matter how severe an injury, the risk was always there.

He tilted his head as he looked at her, trying to see what she looked like. She was like him, he needed to know what she was. What  _he_  was. He had lost this opportunity to learn who he was.  _Damn it! Why did I drop her?!_  He cursed, slamming his fist into the nearest tree. Pain erupted in his joints, helping to soothe the rage roiling in his heart. He had to ask his mother what he was. He had to know why Kerchak hated him so. Why he was the hairless freak. Why were his legs so long and thin compared to his brethren? Why could he walk upright? Why was he better at fashioning more complex tools? What was he? What was she? Questions he could never answer. He knew there was no surviving this fall. There was far too much blood, the air thick with the smell of it, and he knew what that breathing looked like. He had seen it after a member of his family had been attacked by Sabor. They had chased the beast away, but the injuries were to grave. This hairless gorilla's breaths matched those of the mauled gorilla.

Jane had mercifully slipped back into unconsciousness, falling back into the darkness. Tarzan reached out, placing a hand upon her chest. He could just barely feel her thread pulse beneath his hand, her heart beating far too quickly. He remembered his mother showing him how to feel her heartbeat, to show him they were family. She looked like him, but her heart was so different. It was too fast, too faint. He put a hand against his own chest. His heart raced anxiously in his chest, but it could not match the racing taps beneath his other hand.  _Wake up, just wake up long enough for me to ask what you are. What I am. I need to know!_  He pulled his hand away, examining his palm. A sticky layer of blood coated his hand.

The young woman only struggled for a few more minutes before the irregular rapid breaths ceased. Tarzan reached a hand out over her chest again, and there was no thread pulse beneath his palm. A furious roar burned his throat, made his chest ache; the birds who dared venture back to the area scared away once more brining back the eerie silence. To his surprise a sound echoed his angry cry. It sounded like thunder, or the crack of when lightning struck a tree. But there was no storm, no explanation.  _What could have made that strange noise?_  He frowned down at the body of the dead hairless gorilla, and knowing there was nothing left he could do for her left to try and find the source of the storm-less thunder.

Tarzan peered through the thick foliage as he finally caught up to the source of the strange sound. There were more of the  _like me_  animals, these upright hairless gorillas. They made strange sounds; completely unlike the language of the gorillas. Like the strange not-fur yellow coverings that had been on the other one, they too were covered. It was similar to the cloth he bore around his groin for protection, only more colorful, and covered the entirety of their bodies.

 _What does mother about these creatures? She found me, she must know about these others who are like me._  He pondered. He wondered what Kerchack knew about them. The family's silverback had always shown animosity towards him, did he know about these like-me creatures? Did he know something about these hairless gorillas, and that was the source of his anger?  _I need to know more_.

Curiosity failed to describe what was taking over him. He stared at these two, clearly the males of the species.  _Where did they come from? Why I have I never seen them in the jungle until now?_  Tarzan pondered, carefully moving closer. Suddenly the thunder-sound came again, deafeningly loud. His ears rang as the sound began to fade away, and he saw how all around him branches were damaged. He looked closer, and saw a strange stick in the hand of the taller of the two hairless-gorillas. It seemed to be the source of the sound and the source of the destruction. Something about that stuck unsettled him, how could it damage the trees and brush without touching them? How does it make such a sound? Questions, so many questions. He shook his head, trying to regain his countenance. He had to ask his mother, she had to know about this.

He left, making his way back to his family. The 5 kilometer trek felt arduous, he was too anxious to get back and inquire about these creatures that were just like him. He felt a sharp pang of guilt for the death of the female. No longer distracted by the desire to investigate the stormless thunder, his mind was allowed to wander back to her fatal fall.  _I missed. I dropped her, and I missed her._  He thought to himself.  _It's my fault. It's all my fault…_ He could have asked her about what he was. He could have learned more about himself, about her, about  _them_. He wondered if his mother would ever forgive him…

The family was eating, but the tumultuous emotions swirling inside him made it impossible for him to even consider eating. He ran frantically, earning skeptical looks from the others. He found his mother near the center of the group, enjoying some fruit.

"Mother,"

"Tarzan?" she turned to him, her calm expression quickly shifting to one of concern. "What's wrong?" He didn't answer her until he was close enough that he could speak quietly so only she could hear. He was enough of a freak, he didn't want the others to hear. He was enough of a freak, he didn't want them thinking he was crazy too with talks of  _like-me_  hairless gorillas until he knew more.

"There's others. Like me," he was never one for subtly. "I saw them in the jungle. They're hairless except the tops of their head, they have long legs and stand upright, their hands are small… they… they look just like me," he blurted quickly and for several painful moments he feared his own mother would dismiss this claim and call him crazy.

"You saw… others. Like you?" She clarified, and put her fruit down. She had wondered for many years if more of those hairless apes would appear in the jungle. She didn't know what they were or where they came from. But she knew where she could help get Tarzan answers. "Tarzan… there's something I should have told you many years ago," she began, eyes downcast. "I… I found you. You were not born in this clan. Or any gorilla clan." She started, and Tarzan felt his vision close in on itself.  _So it's true. All this time… I wasn't actually a gorilla. I wasn't some mutant freak. I'm something else._ "Come,"

His mother had shown him the tree house. He saw the pictures of himself, of his parents. They were like him. Upright, long legs, hairless, small hands. The curiosity was insatiable. He couldn't help himself. He needed to see them more. He needed to learn more about them. He tried to listen to his mother's story of his adoption. Of what Sabor did to her first son, did to his biological parents. Tears came. Emotions he couldn't put words to. He needed to see them. He needed to learn more. He needed to be near the others  _like-me_. He left his worried mother behind to find them.

***  
"Clayton, what if we never find her?"

"I am sure she'll return professor," Clayton replied dismissively. He had a feeling she wouldn't. It was rare that someone became lost in the jungle and returned. Probably eaten by some large cat, or those savage gorillas. He turned away so the professor wouldn't see him roll his eyes, and to get away from the insufferable weeping.  _Good God man, pull yourself together._ It's not like she was his  _son_. Just a woman, an annoyingly curious one too.

"We should go back out there," he wept, sick with worry for his missing daughter. He had lost his darling wife, he couldn't lose Jane too. Why did he let her talk him into this dangerous expedition? Hiring this bodyguard didn't help.

"It will be dark soon," Clayton tried to feign concern,

"All the more reason to  _find_  her!" Archimedes sniffled,

"We are no use to her if we go wandering into the jungle at night only to get lost ourselves. We can resume the search in the morning," He insisted. "She's an intelligent woman,"  _there's an oxymoron if I've ever heard one_ , he thought to himself. "I'm sure wherever she is she'll stay put to make it easier to find her," he wasn't looking forward to a fruitless day of searching. But it would be a good way to get the professor to unwittingly look for those gorillas with him, perhaps he could come up with some way to get the professor to suggest that the gorillas would have taken her, getting him to lead him to the beasts.

A thump caught their attentions, and they quickly turned to find a half-naked dirt-coated man crouching at the edge of their camp. Clayton lifted his gun, and before Archemedes could stop him, the hunter pulled the trigger.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't know how satisfied I am with this, I may revisit this again later. I struggled for days to get this out, and I'm just not happy with it. I hope you enjoyed though.


	26. Lilo and Stitch, Rating: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Radiklement: What if Lilo tried to throw a birthday party for Nani?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

* * *

"Stitch! Let go!" Lilo whined, trying to pry the bag of flour away from Stitch who was busy trying to shove a fistful of the white powder into his mouth. He managed to wretch the bag away from her, and after successfully cramming some into his mouth his eyes went wide,

"Blech!" he snarled, and kicked the bag over spilling it across the kitchen floor before falling into a fit of babbling curses, thankfully in the strange language Lilo found impossible to understand.

"I'm trying to make a cake for Nani's birthday! You said you would help," she pouted, and picked up the heavy bag of flour, thankful enough of the stuff remained in the bag for her to make the cake. She put it back on the counter, and resumed digging through the cabinets trying to find the other ingredients listed on the recipe when she heard the refrigerator door open. She turned around and found Stitch had pulled out the carton of eggs and was evaluating it closely, "Stitch! No!" she pouted, closing the cabinet and walking up to him. He quickly popped a raw egg into his mouth before scrambling up to perch atop the refrigerator, and made a very satisfied sound as he crunched down on a raw egg, ears perked up, eyes wide with curiousity.

"Ooh…" he cooed, tilting his head at the carton and popped another one in his mouth.

"Stitch! I need those! Get down!" she pouted, and Stitch replied by throwing one of the eggs at her. She let out a high-pitched shriek, covering her head as two more came launching down at her. "Stop it! You'll waste them all!" she complained, and looked up when the rain of eggs stopped. Stitch was still perched on his throne, popping raw eggs into his mouth, ears quivering with delight. After two more he threw the empty carton back down at her, babbling curse words again.

"Oh! Now I have to go buy more…" she pouted. "That was mean Stitch…" she complained, and stormed out of the kitchen. She had her piggy bank on the dresser in her bedroom, and made quick work of pulling the plug out of the bottom of it, shaking out all the coins. She counted them out, satisfied when she accumulated four dollars before putting the stopper back into the ceramic pig before running back down the stairs, nearly colliding with Stitch halfway down. "Come on, I gotta go to the store," she complained

The grocery store was a small building about half a mile from the house. Stitch followed closely behind her as she ran there, hoping they sold eggs. She looked up and saw the boy  _with the cute hair_  that Nani was always going on about. Lilo wrinkled her nose, finding the way he made goo-goo eye sat her sister odd, but knew that him being at her surprise party would make her sister happy.

"David!" she called out, waving to him,

"Lilo! Aloha!" he laughed, "causing trouble?" he asked, and gave her… dog? a skeptical glance. He was not very fond of that thing.

"I need eggs," she answered, "today is Nani's birthday but she had to work anyway so I wanted to have a birthday party for her, I tried to bake a cake but Sitch," she paused to narrow her eyes at him, "ate all the eggs," she explained. "You should come to the party. It'll make Nani happy," she asked, a bitter little part of her hoping he would say no.

"For Nani's birthday? Sure," he smiled at her, "besides, you might need a little help with the oven,"

"I know how to use an oven," Lilo insisted. Though, she left out the part about being unsure how to use the oven  _without_  filling the entire house with smoke. But she was sure this time she could do it as long as she followed that recipe perfectly. And if Stitch stopped trying to eat all the ingredients. "The party isn't until Nani gets home from work," she offered, hoping he wouldn't follow her home. She was determined to set this party up by herself.

"Well let's start by buying those eggs, yeah?" he offered.

"I wanna bake the cake myself…" Lilo insisted stubbornly,

"What if I just come as a backup? I'll let you bake the cake," he asked. He was very familiar with this incredibly stubborn little trouble-maker, and he was a little worried she would set the oven on fire if he wasn't there as a back-up.

"Okay… but you promise not to interrupt?" she narrowed her eyes at him,

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Spit on it," she insisted,

"Huh?" he asked, lifting a skeptical brow. She spat in her palm and held her hand out to him,

"Spit on it," she repeated.  _The things I do to appease kids_  he thought to himself, before spitting on his palm and shaking her hand, grimacing at the damp warmth and then quickly rubbed his palm against the hip of his pants.

"Are eggs the only thing you need?" he asked, gesturing to the store, and she gave him an enthusiastic nod. He took several steps and yelped loudly, stumbling several steps as his sandal was ripped off his foot, Stitch having bit his ankle,

"Stitch!" Lilo scolded, "No! Down! Give it back!" she insisted, "No cake for you if you don't give it back!" she threatened. Stitch pinned his ears, hissing at her as he hugged the sandal closer to him. Dave watched the exchange a little lost for words,

"What… kind of dog… is that?" he asked, wrinkling his nose as he carefully took his partially chewed sandal back, holding it up for a moment before deciding that going barefoot wouldn't be the end of the word.

"His name is Stitch," she answered simply, "got him from the pound. I'm still trying to train him…" she explained, and pointed at stitch,

"Good boy, giving it back. You can have cake," this seemed to appease the animal who wagged his tail and pricked his ears back up. The trio walked into the store, Lilo picking Stitch up, "Stop squirming! Dogs aren't allowed in the store unless you can carry them!" she struggled as he hissed and thrashed in her arms, "I'll make you wait outside if you don't stop!" Stitch went completely limp at this threat, lolling his tongue with a dull growl, "that's better," she groaned at the sudden shift in his center of gravity. She walked up to the cooler in the back of the store, and pulled out a carton of a dozen eggs,

"Here, let me help you," Dave offered, "carrying the eggs isn't breaking our promise, is it?" he asked, and she shook her head at him. Lilo struggled to maintain her grip on the very limp Stitch who seemed to be playing dead, and promptly dropped him onto the ground once they were back outside, getting hissed at,

"Dogs don't hiss Stitch, dogs bark," she complained, and he changed his hiss to a bark. Dave pretended he saw nothing. He was sure everyone would call him crazy if he tried to talk about this weird dog. Heck, he wasn't so sure he wasn't questioning his own sanity watching the thing. What kind of dog was blue? Must have been something the tourists brought with them and accidentally let breed. The tourists were not the most courteous of people.

Once back in the house Dave placed the eggs on the counter next to the other ingredients Lilo had managed to compile, before being angrily shooed out into the living room.

"Now don't eat them this time!" Lilo insisted, waggling her finger at Stitch who pinned his ears back again, grumbling under his breath. He sat on the floor beside her, "okay fine you can have one," Stitch looked up, a little surprised to see Lilo handing an egg to him. He popped it into his mouth, and felt satisfied with the given egg and decided to let her have the rest of them. He was full anyway.

"Okay let's see…" Lilo pulled the cookbook off the counter, struggling with the thick tome. "butter… check, sugar… check… eggs… check, milk" she continued to list the ingredients, ensuring they were all in place on the counter. Within ten minutes she had a nice wet batter in a bowl, and only a few shreds of butter wrapper and egg shells. She was coated in a fine layer of flour, distinct handprints on her outter thighs where she tried to brush them off. She had even managed to coat Stitch in flour.

"Okay… now I gotta pour it into the two cake things," she had found two flat pans that looked close enough to the cake pans in the pictures in the cookbook. One had a long handle, but it was close enough to the right shape. Once she had finished pouring the batter into the two containers Stitch quickly snatched the mixing bowl away from Lilo, loudly slurping at it, spilling more of the scrap batter than he got into his mouth. She looked up at the knobs on the oven, twisting the center one until it read 350, like it said in the book.

"Can you let me put them in the oven?" Dave asked, standing in the doorway.

"Were you watching me? I told you to stay in the livingroom!" Lilo pouted,

"I wanted to learn how to mix a cake," he insisted, feigning innocence. "Can I put them in the oven?" he asked, hoping he wouldn't have to insist to prevent the girl from either burning herself, or spilling cake batter all over the oven. That was not a mess he would want to have to explain to Nani.

"Fine… if it'll make you feel like you par-tic-y-pat-ed" she enunciated slowly.

"I want to feel useful somehow," he replied, playing along. He decided not to comment on the fact that she was baking the cake half the batter in a frying pan, the other in a pie tin. He supposed the shape wouldn't matter. The batter looked enough like a cake batter that it would probably taste just fine. "How long do we wait?" he asked, gesturing to the cookbook Lilo had placed on the floor.

"It said 30 minutes," she explained. Dave made note of the time on his watch and told her what time the cake would be done, pulling it off his wrist and handing it to her, giving her the autonomy in this baking adventure she so clearly craved. For a moment, he half expected the weird blue dog to try and eat it. But luckily Lilo snatched it before then, taking note of the time and shoving it deep into her pocket.

"What do you want to do while we wait for the cake to bake?" Dave asked, and Lilo ran into the living room,

"Decorate! I spent all morning making paper chains," she explained. Dave followed her into the room and noted that yes, indeed it looked like she spent the entire morning making paper chains. There was quite the pile of them on the couch, the table, the floor.

"Where did you even get this much paper?" he asked,

"Nani got me lots of construction paper for arts and crafts," she answered. She picked up the first chain, only to find Stitch charging at it, batting at one end of it like a cat.  _What kind of dog is that thing?!_ Dave found himself wondering for the umpteenth time. "Stitch! Stop it! I spent all morning making these!" she complained. He babbled at her, and ate three links off the end of the chain,

"Is paper safe for dogs? Are we gonna need to take him to the vet?" Dave asked, not wanting to explain to Nani why she had to meet them at the veterinarian's on her birthday.

"No, he ate paper before and was- Stitch! Down! Fine, so we don't need to go to the vet. The vet doesn't really like him anyway," Lilo explained.  _I can see why!_  Dave thought to himself. "You're tall, help me put these up," Lilo asked, handing him a chain and some tape,

"Where do you want them?" he asked, and started taping them up wherever Lilo pointed, with frequent pauses to put chains back up after Stitch ripped some down, babbling and barking at them. If the weird sound he made could be called barking. Despite this, they were having fun putting up Lilo's decorations, finding trying to race against Stitch's determination to rip them back down a game. They managed to get the last of the homemade streamers up just moments before the cake was done, Lilo having been checking the watch the entire time.

Dave convinced Lilo to let him pull the cakes out of the oven, and was quite happy to find the mess inside the oven from spillover was minimal. They certainly smelled like cakes, even if they were a very bizarre shape.

"I'm gonna frost them! Nani likes vanilla better so I got white frosting," Lilo explained. She dug a butter knife out of the drawer and moved to pop the lid off her jar of frosting but Dave stopped her,

"Whoa wait, let the cake cool off. It'll be easier to frost that way," he explained. She looked caught between pouting that he wasn't letting her do all the steps herself, or thankful that he taught her this useful tip. Deciding being mean on Nani's birthday wasn't fair she put the knife down and decided to watch some cartoons while she waited for the cakes to cool.

"Stitch!" she shouted, irritated as she walked back into the living room. Nearly half the paper chains had been torn down, several of them broken. "I worked all morning on these. Bad dog!" she scolded, gathering the broken chains and the tape to fix them. Stitch, miraculously, didn't destroy any more chains while she fixed the broken ones and Dave helped her put them back up.

"Do you think the cake is cool enough now?" Lilo asked impatiently,

"It's been long enough. Need help getting the cakes onto a plate?" he asked, and as he expected she vehemently shook her head. She charged into the kitchen, bringing the pie tin and the frying pan containing her cake halves to the table, as well as a knife and the jar of frosting. She managed to get the misshapen cake halves out of their containers mostly intact, and set to work liberally frosting them and placing them on top of eachother like in the picture in the cookbook. She had purchased a small tube of writing frosting too, and wrote

_Happy Birthday Nani_

in blue letters. For a moment it looked like Stitch was about to jump onto the table and devour her masterpiece, but she caught him before he could wreck her entire day's work.

"No Stitch! I worked hard on this! Why are you such a bad dog!" she complained, "you're being mean! You ate the flour, you ate or broke all the eggs, you keep breaking my paper chains! Why are you so mean!" she yelled, pushing him to the floor and balling her fists, tears in her eyes. Stitch looked admonished, startled by her anger shifting from playful irritation, to genuine hurt. His ears drooped, and he sat on the floor, eyes downcast babbling an apology that she wouldn't quite understand.

Lilo sat with Dave in the living room, watching cartoons while they waited for Nani to return home from work. Lilo's anger at Stitch had faded, as had his own mischievous mood and he was calmly sitting in her lap, enjoying having his ears rubbed. Dave had joined her after cleaning the mess inside of the oven from the cake batter than ran over its containers, and managed to make it look  _almost_  as good as new.

"Lilo? I'm home!" she heard her sister's muffled voice moments before the broken front door burst open.

"Nani!" she ran into the kitchen, "No no! Close your eyes!" she insisted, sprinting up to her sister. She looked confused, but was used to her sister's antics enough to comply.

"Okay okay, my eyes are closed," she insisted, and let her sister lead her into the kitchen,

"Sit here. But keep your eyes closed!" she insisted. Nani chuckled and sat down, and once instructed to opened her eyes, and was shocked to be sitting in front of a misshapen cake with  _Happy Birthday Nani_ written messily on top, the word Birthday written as two separate words to get it to fit onto the cake. "Happy Birthday Nani! I made you a cake!" Lilo announced proudly, and hugged her big sister.

"Did you do this all by yourself?!" she asked, startled.

"No, that guy you like with the  _cute hair_  helped me with the oven parts," she explained, "but I did all the mixing and pouring and frosting by myself!" the pride in her little sister's face was enough to bring a smile to hers.

"It looks delicious Lilo," Nani smiled, "let me get some plates and a knife and let's dig in!"

"no no, sit! It's your birthday I'll do all the work today," Lilo insisted, "I'll… even do the dishes," she wrinkled her nose at the offer, but knew it would make her sister happy. She gathered plates and knives, Dave joining them in the kitchen as this point. Lilo clumsily carved everyone a piece of cake, bouncing on the balls of her feet asking _how is it how is it how is it_. Nani took a bite, eyes wide for a moment.

"It's delicious Lilo!" she was quite surprised how good the cake tasted. She paused, feeling something hard on her tongue. She reached in her mouth, pulling out an egg shell. She stared at it for a moment then laughed, and dug right back into the cake her sister worked so hard to make for her. Stitch had walked into the kitchen at this point, still unusually subdued.

"It's not fair if I don't give you a piece too, here," Lilo carved a piece of cake for Stitch, and placed it on a plate on the floor, "you were such a good dog you get a nice big piece!" Stitch immediately devoured the cake, while Lilo turned her attention back to her sister,

"Happy birthday Nani,"

"Thank you Lilo, you really made my day"


	27. Aladdin, Rating: T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ff.net user edowdle: What if princess Jasmine was trapped in the cave of wonders with Aladdin both meet genie and wished for a kingdom of their own and with a harem too? My idea is Jasmine is with Aladdin and meeting genie he sings never had a friend like me to them and Jasmine convinces Aladdin she wants to be free of her kingdom and become a princess of her own kingdom with Aladdin as her prince
> 
> The question was a bit longer, but it was hard to incorporate other parts of the question. I did truly try and spent many hours on this one-shot. The original asker was not satisfied with the result but I hope it's still an enjoyable one-shot for others after the amount of effort I poured into this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this works. Readers give me a one-shot prompt, I write a one-shot. Lengths vary on the one-shot based on
> 
> I do not watch the Disney channel, so please no questions regarding shows, or Disney channel movies. Traditional Disney movies only, preferably animated/cgi only. I know Disney now owns half the properties in media now, but the spirit of this series is originally for traditional Disney.
> 
>  
> 
> Because this was an issue I had on ff.net: Never, EVER, ask me to write a story about the rape of children, or sex with children. I will NOT write child pornography!

 

* * *

Jafar nearly crawled out of his own skin with excitement when Aladdin insisted he bring someone with him to the cave of wonders. Another poor girl, in as much need for money as he. Despite her attempt to dress as a commoner, he was no fool and recognized this  _poor girl_  as the Princess Jasmine herself. When she had first run off he nearly tore apart his laboratory in a fit a rage, but then realized the opportunity this presented. Sure, with the princess gone he was now wanting for a potential wife. But his ultimate goal, to seize the throne from that foolish man Jasmine called a father, was now closer in sight. He could lose her in the cave of Wonders with the boy, and with the kingdom lacking an heir the vizier would find himself next in line with the power of a djinn in his pocket. But would the finicky cave allow her inside beside that…  _diamond in the rough._

"Hey keep up old man!" Aladdin's voice grated on his nerves. They had been travelling by camel since unset, and he swore he was going to vomit with the constant smiles and stares the young pair were giving each other every several minutes.

"How much farther is it?" Jasmine inquired. She wasn't used to riding; her thighs were chafing and her hips and lower back ached. Her initial excitement about this adventure was dwindling with the reality of it coming to light. It was always so easy in the books she read. The hero and his love would leap onto the backs of horses or more prudently, camels; and ride into the night to save the world. The books never talked about the long stretches of boredom or the aches and pains that came with a longer travel. But she was  _free._

"Another half-hour by horse." Jafar ground out. He could hear Iago groan from his perch on his back, a combination of discomfort from being stuffed into his cloak and annoyance at listening to these idiots chatter like children.

"It's a really nice night, enjoy it!" Aladdin cheered, his voice so cheerful Jafar wondered if the boy was being sarcastic. He clumsily directed his horse to get closer to Jasmine, the animal giving an annoyed snort and shaking its head.

"Easy on the reigns!" If he broke the horse's tooth the animal would be worthless.

"Sorry… never rode before." He admitted. Jasmine had ridden, but mostly short trots around the grounds surrounding the palace, sitting side-saddle and accompanied by whatever suitor was desperately vying for her hand. The rest of the ride was spent with short bursts of conversation between Jasmine and Aladdin, Jafar struggling with every ounce of will power that he had not to murder the both of them. Having spent more than fifteen consecutive minutes with Jasmine made him wonder why he had ever lusted for her. Even if as her husband he could command her to silence he wasn't sure he could bear her as a wife. Was he just old?

"There," Jafar spoke, and pointed to a large sand dune.

"We gotta dig?" Aladdin asked. But the sands began to shift, the rumbling spooking the horses and throwing the inexperienced rider off, Jafar and Jasmine able to soothe their mounts while the third ran off despite Jafar's calls. He cursed under his breath, rolling his eyes and slid off of his own horse, soothing it before hobbling up to the younger pair.

_**Who disturbs my slumber?** _

The voice that rang out from the Tiger's Head that had emerged from the dune, a hot wind blowing from the mouth, carrying with it a distinct metallic tang. The voice was ethereal, almost as if coming from all around them, not from the sand-creature speaking before them.

"Allah…" Jasmine whispered, eyes wide as she stared ahead.

"Whoa…"

"Go on boy, speak your name." he insisted. Abu, the money that had been sleeping on Aladdin's shoulder, had woken amist the chaos and was cowering inside his friend's vest, quivering.

"It is I… Aladdin…"

_**You May Enter.** _

"What about my friend here?" he gestured to the girl beside him. She had told him her name was Dima, but wondered if this creature needed her to speak her name herself. Jasmine stood beside him and appeared frozen with fear.

"Go on girl, speak your name."

"Jasmine." Her voice was so soft and when there was no response from the Tiger's Head she repeated herself a bit louder, standing a bit straighter and leveling her shoulders. Aladdin lifted a brow at her, and the look she gave him told him he better not ask for clarification now.

_**You May Enter.** _

"And I am just a humble old man, no diamond in the rough. I will wait for you both here, back back you know. Remember our deal."

"The lamp is yours, we get everything else." Aladdin recited.

"That's a good boy. Hurry now, you don't want to leave an old man to bake in the desert sun, so best be back with enough night left to get back to Agrabah."

"Yeah." Aladdin responded with a shiver. He was no stranger to what happened to men who got lost in the desert. More than one mummified corpse had been dragged back to town by a traveler seeking to help the deceased receive a proper burial. A growl snapped his attention back to the cave, and he saw the tongue shift into a set of stairs. He exchanged worried glances with Jasmine standing beside him, and together they stepped up onto the Tiger's Lip, and began to descent down the stairs. The old man shouted something to them, but the sound was too muffled by the soft breathing and quiet growl of the Tiger's head as hand-in-hand they began to descend into the cave.

_**Touch Nothing But The Lamp.** _

"Huh?" Alladin looked around him, startled by the voice. It sounded no different than when he was standing outside, and he pondered how this could be now that he was inside the cave. "Wait, he promised me the treasure if I gave him the lamp… you tellin' me that was a lie?" he asked the air, but was greeted only with soft breathing.

"He tricked us!" Jasmine complained. Abu scambled out of Aladdin's vest at this point, looking back at the stairs leading to the mouth of the cave and shook his fist, chattering at it.

"This place is fascinating… where did all this come from?" Jasmine's amazement snapped Aladdin out of his angry haze, and he ran his hands roughly through his hair before dropping them by his sides.

"I thought I was finally going to have enough money to buy a house, and never need to scrounge for food again, maybe have some  _actual_ clothes." He lamented. "The gold in this place could feed every poor person in all of Agrabah for the rest of their lives!"

"Surely the sultan makes sure his people are fed?" He looked at her , brows knit together.

"Okay, what's going on? Did you trick me too? You told me your name was Dima, but told the Tiger's Head that its Jasmine. Back in town you said you were poor too but now you act all surprised Agrabah is full of hungry people. Who are you?" he asked, crossing his arms before his chest. Abu mimicked this gesture, blowing a razzberry at Jasmine whom he had never liked to begin with.

"I… lied to you." She admitted, and pulled back her hood. "I'm Princess Jasmine."

"The  _Princess_?!" Abu again echoed him.

"Please don't bow." She pleaded, holding up both her palms. "I fled the palace because I'm sick of rules. I'm sick of people bowing because their told. I go to breakfast because I'm told. I eat what I'm told, wear what I'm told, go where I'm told to go. And now they wanted to tell me who to marry. What's the point of living if I can't make a single decision myself?" she rambled, sighing and avoided his eyes. Aladdin was unsure how to respond. He wanted to tell her she had no idea what it was like to shiver in the desert nights, to chew on sticks to assuage the never-ending hunger pangs. To see children with protruding bellies. To see men and women scream and beg as a scimitar is held over their wrist for the offense of stealing a piece of food for those starving children. But then he wondered what it was like to be on her side. Never hungry, never cold, but everything dictated for you.

"Come on." He wasn't sure how to respond to her and they began to follow the path that wound around the towering piles of treasures. Each room held wonders of a different kind. One full of gold and jewels, another was a vast library that must hold everything mankind had ever written, yet another full of food and drink. Aladdins stomach roiled as he recalled giving up the only thing outside half a melon he had been able to eat for over a day.  _Touch nothing but the lamp._ Echoed in his mind. There was no follow up to the statement, but a threat was unnecessary. He was sure the consequences would be dire if he grabbed at anything they passed by.

"Whoa, what's this?" Aladdin asked when they entered a new chamber of treasures and saw that a beautifully adorned carpet was standing on its tassels as if they were legs. The carpet clapped its tassels and flew around them.

"Do you live in this cave?" Jasmine asked, tilting her head and twirling as the carpet flew circles around her.

"A magic carpet? I thought these were just stories…"

"After seeing a Tiger Head emerge out of the desert and talk to me I don't know what to just call a story anymore." Jasmine admitted. The carpet had nodded in answer to her earlier question.

"Hey wait, if you live here you must know where everything is, right?" Jasmine inquired, and got another nod. Or what looked like a nod. The fabric at the top furled in and bobbed in a very human-looking gesture for a square-shaped object. "Can you show us where a lamp is? The only thing we're allowed to touch?" the carpet nodded again, zooming away and despite Abu's chittering protests Aladdin and Jasmine followed.

The final chamber smelled of wet stone and stagnant water. It was dim, save for a light source that may have been the full moon peering through a hole in the ceiling of the cave where there was none. Aladdin noted the path was flanked on either side by a golden ape holding a ruby bigger than his head. Abu looked transfixed, and he grabbed him by his scruff,

"Look," he gestured to where the sole source of light, illuminating a stone upon which sat a golden oil lamp. He couldn't see how there was any other object the old man could have been to referring to.

"is that the lamp?" Jasmine asked.

"It's the only one I've seen in this place" Aladdin felt Abu leap off his shoulder, which was all well in good he was beginning to feel sore anyway. He walked with Jasmine up the narrow path, and saw that the stone in the center of the room was surrounded by a lake of water. He approached it carefully and reached out, and Jasmine held her breath beside him. His fingers brushed the cold metal, and when nothing happened he gripped the handle and lifted it, looking the small object over. "This thing is what he led us through the desert for?" he asked.

"Well let's hurry back… this place is starting to make me nervous." Jasmine admitted.

_**Infidels!** _

"What?!" Aladdin flinched, his startle causing him to toss the lamp but Jasmine was quick to reach to grab it out of the air but it bounced off her fingertips. Luckily the magic carpet curled itself around the object and unfurled to drop it back into Aladdin's hands.

_**You Have Touched The Forbidden Treasure! Now You Will Never Again See The Light Of Day!** _

Aladdin saw Abu in the distance sheepishly trying to shove one of the immense rubies back into the grip of its golden ape only to have the gold begin to melt, and the ruby in his paws burst into flame. He shrieked, leaping away from the fire and sticking his hands in the stagnant water, pulling them out to assess the burns just before the lake itself began to boil, and he shrieked again. Carpet gestured madly at Aladdin and Jasmine who stared in horror as the path away from the stone table glowed and melted away into lava, and leapt onto the carpet surprised at the strength it had to hold them both. The carpet flew, grabbing Abu's tail in its tassels, the monkey scrambling onto the carpets back as it spirited them away from the chamber that was quickly growing overbearingly hot.

It was no different as they soared through the rest of the cave, a blue of fire and terror. Abu clung to Aladdin's face, Jasmine clinging to him from behind, her chest pressed against his back. Were they not fleeing for their lives he may have appreciated something about her embrace. He looked up when the carpet shot up at a sharp angle, soaring towards the crumbling stairs. He grunted when he was launched forward, and grasped at the abrasive stone he impacted with. He heard a shrill scream, and a quick frantic glance around him told him neither Jasmine nor the carpet were nearby. He clawed at the stairs, looking up at the haggardly old man. His breathing came in rapid short gasps, his heart throbbing in his ears. He felt tears burn his eyes, stinging his cheeks as they fell, and he reached a trembling hand up.  _Did the Princess just die? Did this stupid adventure for some gold kill her?_  He cursed himself, and clawed at the stairs to pull himself out of the cave. The old man demanded the lamp, and in his confused haze he held it out, thinking it was so he could reach him. But once he had the lamp in hand Aladdin felt something impact his face and fell, and then the blackness consumed him.

"Aladdin?" he felt someone shaking his chest, and a smaller pair of hands was tugging at his hair also chittering his name.

"Ugh… what happened?" he asked. He tried to sit up but was quickly pushed back down.

"You hit your head… really hard." It was Jasmine's voice. So she survived the fall.

"Abu?" he asked, and got a chittering answer and he could check that concern off. "How?"

"The carpet saved me, then when you feel it flew up to catch you, and Abu right after" Jasmine explained.

"The lava?" The blur was beginning to leave his mind, and a sharp pain began to settle in as the pain left.

"Didn't reach this room. We need to find a way out…" her voice trembled, and he could feel the tremor reaching her hands that were still pressed against his chest. "Oh I just wanted to do something for myself for once!" she admonished, balling her fists and striking the sandstone on either side of her legs. The pain that shot through her hands and up her arms was almost a comfort, allowing her to shift her mind away from the anxiety threatening to turn into pure panic.

"Ugh… That old man tricked us… got what he wanted and bugged off leaving us to die." He could only imagine what the Sultan would do should he learn his daughter, his heir, was left to die in a cave by that old man. He had heard horror stories of what the Sultans of Old had done to enemies, and a chill ran through him as he wondered if he would be caught up in the mess that would follow. If they ever got out of here. He almost wondered if starving to death in a cave was the more merciful of his options.

"Err…" Abu chittered, and reached behind Aladdin's head and held the lamp above his face.

"Whoa, how did you…?" Abu made a dismissive gesture, and Jasmine clapped in excitement.

"What's so special about this oil lamp?" Aladdin asked, glancing around it. "It looks like its made of gold but its too light for that… and it looks ancient."

"Maybe its an ancient artifact? We can have the scholars look at it." Jasmine offered. He rubbed at it with the corner of his vest, needing something to keep his hands busy or he's likely start punching the sandstone floor in frustration. A quick glance around the room showed that the entrance above them was sealed, and the one that led deeper into the cave was nowhere to be seen. They were trapped in an empty cavern with no way out and a stupid oil lamp some stupid old man had tricked them into fetching from this stupid cave. A lot more colorful words were coming to mind, but he tried to think of more polite terminology, being in the presence of royalty and all. Which made him realize how casual he'd been with her.

"So you were the Princess the whole time… I should be hanged for how I talked to you." He started, and she was vehemently shaking her head before he finished his words.

"I dressed like a commoner so I would be treated like one. If I wanted to be bowed to, and pontificated at, I would have stayed in my royal garb with an escort of guards and watched as everyone tripped over themselves to prove they were the most cordial as they give themselves concussions slapping their heads to the ground as I pass. You treated me like a person… I wanted to know what that was like." She sighed and shook her head, "I guess I'm too naïve."

A blue light shot out of the lamp, startling the pair and silencing any reply Aladdin had prepared to Jasmine's little confession. A loud voice filled the small chamber,

"Ten. Thousand. Years! Will give you such a crick in the neck…" an enormous blue humanoid ballooned in the limited space, creaks and pops punctuating its words as he contorted his limbs in unnatural ways.

"Is that a djinn?!" Jasmine exclaimed, falling back and scooting away from it. She had read about these damned things. Tricksters, beings of chaos. They would grant you three wishes, but always with an ironic catch.  _Allah strike me down for letting that thing be set loose on the world! No wonder that lamp was buried in a place like this!_  Her chest heaved, her entire body trembled as she scooted away, failing in every attempt to stand refusing to take her eyes off of it.

"Hey, no need to panic little lady! Just stretching my limbs!" he shrank down until he was only a head taller than Aladdin, "And who are you two delightful young things? Such a pretty couple. You meet on the love boat? Nah, too young. Won't get it. More like a harlequin romance? No, your hair is too short and her clothes cover too much. Hmm…" he drummed his fingers on his bicep, tapping his foot and slipping into a string of odd words and phrases that made Aladdin wonder just  _how_  hard he had hit his head.

"Who… who are you?"

"Me? Oh, how  _rude_  of me!" a fan appeared in the djinn's hand, fanning his face, "I really do need to watch my manners, mama always told me I would never catch a man's fancy with my brusque ways," it spoke in a mock-female tone and a strange accent. "I, am Genie!"

"Genie?" Aladdin asked.  _That would be like me being named human-y! How long has that thing been crammed in this lamp? It's insane!_

"Let me tell you a bit about myself! Only right to give my new master a proper introduction!" Orchestral music filled the chamber like nothing he had ever heard. Jasmine's posture began to slack, lifting a brow as the Genie began to… sing?

_Well Ali Baba had them forty thieves  
Scheherezad-ie had a thousand tales_

In a series of bright flashes men appeared with swords, swinging them around, a woman sitting on pillows appearing and spoke to a half-naked man eating from a golden platter on his side. As the song continued, more images burst into life. The chamber became more alive than the marketplace.

 _But master you in luck 'cause up your sleeves_  
You got a brand of magic never fails  
You got some power in your corner now  
Some heavy ammunition in your camp  
You got some punch, pizzazz, yahoo and how  
See all you gotta do is rub that lamp

"Is that how I woke it up?" Aladdin asked Abu, but the money was busy running up to the pile of food next to the Scheherezad-ie image, and Aladdin couldn't deny how amazing the food looked and mirrored his friend. Jasmine got up from her cower, hands on her hips wondering what the consequence would be from eating that magic food. She groaned, rolling her eyes, and wondered if that silly boy had ever read a book in his entire life.  _Wait, do commoners even know how to read?_  She was jerked from her thoughts as the djinn grabbed her by the wrist, shifting into the form of a man she had to admit was devilishly handsome, spinning her so she was sent staggering in Aladdin's direction.

_And I'll say,_

_Master and Mistress, sir and ma'am  
What will your pleasure be?_

Jasmine had staggered into Aladdin, both exchanging shy smiles before being knocked off balance when a table appeared before them, falling backwards but were caught by chairs. Smooth paper appeared on the tables, and djinn once again looked like a human male with thin facial hair, holding a piece of paper and a thin piece of what looked like paper-wrapped charcoal. Jasmine once again found herself wondering what this thing was, clearly not as entranced by it as Aladdin was.

 _Let me take your order_  
Jot it down  
You ain't never had a friend like me

 _Life is your restaurant_  
And I'm your maitre d'  
C'mon whisper what it is you want  
You ain't never had a friend like me

The table vanished from under them and they hit the hard floor of the chamber, Jasmine slapping the ground beside her with a frustrated grunt as Aladdin followed the djinn that had shifted, this time, into an alluring female dressed like a girl from a brothel.

 _Yes sir, we pride ourselves on service_  
You're the boss  
The king, the shah  
Say what you wish  
It's yours, true dish  
How about a little more Baklava?

In the chaos of lights, sounds, objects, people, sights, smells, an outpouring of baklava appeared from a horn, scattering all over the floor until all she could smell was the delightful treat her father used to give her as a child, and she would occasionally plead the kitchen servants for. Honey and nuts, just a touch of roses. She wrinkled her nose as she approached the pile, giving it a small sniff and wondered what the catch was. She sighed, figuring if she was going to die in this forsaken cave, may as well accept this djinn's temptations.

 _Have some of column A_  
Try all of column B  
I'm in the mood to help you dude  
You ain't never had a friend like me

_Can your friends do this?_

Aladdin laughed, Abu chittered, and Jasmine yelped when the djinn took off its own head and duplicated it, beginning to juggle its dismembered heads in what she considered a grotesque display, Aladdin clearly entertained.

_Do your friends do that_

The djinn spun into a wheel, twirling though its own closed dismembered fist.

_Do your friends pull this out their little hat?_

A small rabbit pulled from a hat,

_Can your friends go poof?  
Well, looky here_

"Are you serious?!" Jasmine admonished when, this time, the djinn appeared as dozens of girls that belonged either in a harem or a brothel. The Scheherezad-ie illusion got up from his pillow, running away form the storytelling woman who crossed her arms in a huff, the man she had been speaking to quick to garner the attention of several of the nearly-nude women laughing madly as they showered him in attention and she quickly diverted her eyes in fear of seeing these illusions take it a bit too far.

_Can your friends go, Abracadabra, let 'er rip  
And then make the sucker disappear?_

A handsome Prince walked up to her, wearing royal garb and a false smile. Clearly an attempt to appease her, the djinn clearly having noticed it was failing to entrance her as much as her male counterpart.

"No dice." She shouted, and made a rude hand gesture at the Prince who pressed the back of his palm to his forehead, gasped, and fell backwards vanishing into a series of fireworks that shot into the air with his impact with the ground.

 _So dontcha sit there slack-jawed, buggy-eyed_  
I'm here to answer all your midday prayers  
You got me bona fide, certified  
You got Genie for your chargé d'affaires  
I got a powerful urge to help you out  
So what-cha wish?  
I really want to know  
You got a list that's three miles long, no doubt  
Well, all you gotta do is rub like so - and oh

 _Master and Mistress, sir and ma'am, have a wish or two or three_  
I'm on the job, you big nabobs  
You ain't never had a friend, never had a friend  
You ain't never had a friend, never had a friend  
You ain't never had a friend like me  
You ain't never had a friend like me, hah!

And all at once, the illusions vanished. A whirlwind of lights, sounds, colors, smells, all twirled into a chaotic tornado and vanished into the lamp, leaving the djinn lying on his side, a strange curl of glowing… metal? No… glass? Above his head bearing the words  _applause._ Aladdin and Abu were applauding, and Jasmine was holding her arms in front of her chest.

"Man, what's it take to impress you little lady?" he tapped at the bottom of his chin and quickly came down to size. "My my I forgot my manners again!" he flourished a bow,

"Oh stop it! One more person bows to me today I'll barf!" she threw her hands up, and the djinn backed up, tisking.

"You are clearly tensed my dear. Lemme try lemme try. Twirl, twirl. Come now girl, I know a way to get those tense muscles to just  _relax_." He walked up to her and quickly moved behind her. She tensed up, wondering what this thing was up to but it began to rub at her shoulders, and she had to admit. It sure as hell knew what it was doing. "Now, isn't that better? Tell me tell me. What is a delightfully cute little couple like you doing in my humble cave?" that odd accent from earlier was back, and the djinn began to look around. "Okay. Really humble. What happened?"

"Uhh…"

"Oh first things first. What's your names? You know mine is Genie, and you are?"

"Aladdin"

"and Abu!" the monkey climbed atop his friend's shoulders, quite content with a full belly. Aladdin too realized he felt significantly better with a belly full near-to-nausea, and decided he didn't want to bother wondering why he felt full when the other food vanished into nothing ness when the song finished.

"And you?"

"Jasmine."

"Oh! Like the rice!"

"The?"

"So you're a djinn, a real djinn?" Jasmine asked.

"Ding ding ding! Eight-hundred to the little lady! Next question Alex,"

"Alex?" Jasmine asked, looking over at Aladdin who simply pouted out his bottom lip and shrugged, shaking his head with a palms-up gesture.

"Know that that means?" Genie asked.

"You granted wishes with horrible side effects."

"Oh that's the other djinn, I don't play those stupid games. Gets so  _boring_  after a while. Nope. Three wishes, consequence free. As long as you follow the rules,"

"Rules?" Aladdin asked.

"Rule  _number one!_  I can't kill anyone, so don't ask," he lopped off his own head, causing both Aladdin and Jasmine to wince, and Abu began to laugh. It listed the other rules, no bringing back the dead, and no forcing people to fall in love.  _So no catches? Just rules?_  Jasmine wondered.

"So you're an all-powerful djinn?" she asked again. This got the cogs in Aladdin's head twirling. He looked around the chamber, and a cheeky grin came over his features.

"I dunno about all-powerful. I mean, he did say he was in that lamp for… ten thousand years? How powerful can he be if he couldn't get out of that lamp. Bet he can't even get us out of this cave." He sighed and shook his head. "Come on guys, let's go find an exit. Besides, you said something about consequence Jasmine? Probably best to just leave that lamp here and find our own way out."

"Oh no you don't!" Genie shouted, squinting an eye and pointing a finger, "You doubtin' me? You talkin' to me?  _You_ , talkin' to  _me?_ " He began to balloon up with each word spoken. At this point carpet appeared, and stood defensively between Genie and the humans, gesturing madly between them. "Oh hey dude!" Genie shrank back down and did an elaborate series of high-fives with the carpet, which was an impressive feat with an object with no actual hands. "Shall we show 'em?" he asked, and got a vehement nod from the carpet. "It's showtime! Let's get ready to- oh wait, can't say that one. Royalties," he slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand, and grabbed the trio of mortals in one hand, popping them onto the carpet, sitting at the front of the carpet twirling until it looked like a woman waring foreign garb, slurring though a strange series of phrases and they burst out of the chamber and into the cold desert night.

They landed on an island that by all descriptions was a paradise. Jasmine looked around her and was still waiting for the catch to happen. They were free of that cave, and by all means the place they were brought to was far from unpleasant. She kept waiting for the axe to fall, but maybe Genie's intentions were pure.

"How's  _that_  now, huh?" he shifted into a dragon, "don't make be burn nobody to prove no point," he twirled again and was once more the almost humanoid blue man, hands on his hips. "Wish number two?"

"You mean wish number  _one_  we never actually wished to get out of that cave."

"I…" Genie's jaw fell, and he groaned and shifted into a fluffy lamb, "well I feel sheepish. Listen here you baaaad boy, from here on out no more freebies!" he poofed back to normal and began to stretch. Jasmine's mind began to work. She thought about going home, and winced at the mere idea. She loved her father, and she would miss him, and she would miss Raja. But when she had fled the palace she had done so with the intention of never returning home. She thought about what her controlled life had felt like, every damn thing dictated for her to the point she had to be sneaky just to eat a damned piece of baklava when she wanted! She thought about Aladdin's talking about life as a poor boy, and how many poor existed in Agrabah. She thought about how often her father simply played with his toys while Jafar pulled the strings. About the guards terrorizing the city and how she had always pranced about with this illusion her family were perfect leaders. But if they were perfect why were there so many poor in Agrabah when her family was so rich?

If  _she_  was sultan, she wouldn't let her people starve. She wouldn't build another elaborate garden while people ran homeless. She wouldn't hold an elaborate banquet to marry off her only child with enough food for one damned party to feed half of Agrabah for a week. If  _she_ were sultan people wouldn't be hungry, or cold, or hot, or naked, or thirsty. They wouldn't long for her constrained life in the palace simply because it would mean the end of hunger pangs.

_If I was sultan…_

"Genie? Are you only Aladdin's master?" she inquired. The song had been so chaotic she wasn't sure if him calling her mistress was a reference to his granting  _her_  wishes we well, or if he was calling her Aladdin's mistress, and she would punch the both of them if it was the latter.

"As long as you two don't start fighting to the death over wishes, I am yours as well my lady," He made as if to flourish a bow but recalled her earlier reaction. She looked over at Aladdin, and couldn't help the smile. He cared so much about the poor of Agrabah, and seemed to know what it was like to be poor. If anyone could stand by her side and make a just kingdom it was him.

"I wish… for Aladdin and I to have our own kingdom to rule over. Where I can be as free as I want… and make sure my people are never wanting. A paradise… on this island! Not back in the desert where everyone is apparently fighting for scraps and dismembering those who dare to feed the impoverished. I want a just land of plenty!" She put her hands on her hips, standing tall as she looked expectedly up at the djinn.

"Wait, I know nothing about being a  _sultan_!" Aladdin tried to deny, holding up his hands. He had been hoping for a  _date_  with that pretty girl from the market, not to end up as  _sultan_.

"I can do the complicated political nonsense parts of it. I need  _you_  to be beside me…" she flushed, recalling how well they seemed to bond in their short time in the city together. "I need you to guide me in ruling a Kingdom without hunger or poverty!"

"I don't know…"

"We can do this together Aladdin. You were lamenting all the hungry people… and how being poor makes you feel trapped. Together we can rule a kingdom where people are  _happy_." Aladdin opened his mouth and closed it, looking up at the djinn.

"is that even possible?"

"You aren't killing anyone, or bringing back the dead… or forcing love. Well, if you want some utopia that's all on you, gotta make your people fall in love with you, I can't help you there."

"We can do that part"

"Showtime!" Genie rolled up his sleeves, cracked his knuckles, and rolled his head to crack his neck. He reached out to make a grand gesture with his hands, but simply snapped. Aladdin and Jasmine found themselves standing on the balcony of a palace. It was grander than any home Aladdin could have ever dreamed of, and it was far more modest than the palace Jasmine had lived in. And she couldn't be happier. She didn't want a grand sprawling palace. She knew the power of images, and needed a place to rule from that was grand, but not ostentatious. Large enough to show her station, but modest enough not to enrage the people.

"Now, for those clothes…" Jasmine gestured at Aladdin, "If you're going to be beside me ruling this Kingdom together, you should look the part." Genie once again snapped his fingers and was suddenly in pants, a shirt, and vest. A measuring thread was around his neck, pins poking out from his lips. He held his hands up in a flamboyant gesture,

"What do we have to worth with. Ugh, this is so last century we need modern chic!" he declared. He gave the vest a hard yank, tearing it off of Aladdin's form and rather than find himself shirtless Aladdin looked down to find himself in an elaborate cream and gold suit that would make any sultan enraged with jealousy.

"He looks like every suitor I've ever had." She sighed. Genie snapped his fingers and the garment fit slightly looser, the had replaced with a simple neat hairstyle. The suit was blue with grey trims, and Jasmine's brows shot up at seeing the odd looking suit. And thought it was devilishly handsome. "Much better. You ready to do this together?" she asked the still confused Aladdin.

"I'm ready to try." He smiled.

"I'm ready to succeed."

* * *

 


End file.
